Star Fox: Universe R(aid)
by Jack Russo
Summary: Things are building up within the Cornerian government and whispers hint to only bad news. With the boys now funded through Arspace, how will Peppy react and get his arwing back?
1. Chapter 00 - Prologue

**[Star Fox: Universe R(aid)]**

 **Bryyo**

 _Star Fox and Characters within the Nintendo universe are copyright their respected owners._

* * *

 **A Prelude to War: Prologue**

* * *

Haneik Sector  
Lylat Outskirts  
Planet: Lorentil - 10 years ago

 _And down they went, from skies above. Their descent a scream, piercing the air and shattering the lull of the nightly torpor. For those below there was nothing but awe as the heavenly tears plummeted onto their homes. A flash of red illuminates the sky, mixed in with the melancholy of the night._

 _While children stared like a moth drawn to a flame, mothers' eyes welled up with tears and the fathers knelt down in despair. Cries of adulation for the joy of judgement rose up across the land as the gift from the gods was embraced by earth. And with a crack, an echo, and a sigh did they rise on up from their forsaken earth to be reunited with the stars. May they now and forever find peace in their embrace…_

"I take it, your Majesty, you worked on that story during our descent," mused a guard, his voice muffled behind his helmet. A few others chuckled at the remark before being silenced by another guard clearing his throat.

"Do not disrespect her Majesty so bluntly, fools," he admonished. His armor was more decorated to his peers – while they wore white and black, he garnished a deep red outfit. "She is in charge by order of the Emperor!"

"That's quite alright, captain," the girl muttered amidst the disapproving scoffs. Despite her position, she was quite aware of her situation since her home had been usurped by the Empire. Even though her role would have demanded respect it was nothing more than an empty title.

The caravan finished its descent onto the planet below and the rumbling of the engines faded into a muffled silence. The doors groaned open and the air became thick with the scent of ash and smoke. A solemn wind blew as the guards stepped out onto the earth with the girl following meekly behind. Her hair danced gently with the wind and she used her right hand to swipe a stray lock behind her ear.

"Princess Juli, what do you think," inquired a guard. "Does the surface remind you of your home planet?" She didn't say a word and her continued silence suggested her disinterest in the jeering the other guards wanted to play at.

"Enough, men. We're on a mission here. Let's make our way toward the village," said the red captain. They grumbled and did as they were told. The red captain took a quick glance at the princess, wide-eyed and surveying their surroundings. "Do enjoy the earth at your feet, Princess. You'll be lucky if they allow you out of your chambers again."

She turned her attention to him, her expression unreadable, and nodded. The captain wondered how a girl of seven could show such control over her emotions so well in the sight of destruction. He returned her nod and proceeded onward through the grassy plain the caravan had landed on and toward the red glow of the village ahead.

They walked in silence taking a direct route. Blades of tall grass swayed in the wind as if bowing in submission to their usurpers who trekked on. Juli did her best to keep up with the larger gait of the men, swatting away the grass from hitting her face. They did not gift her with an environmental suit such as theirs for this journey. None would have fit her, they had said. In reality, it was likely done on purpose since she too was a prisoner.

Gradually, the grass grew shorter and they found themselves on a gravel road leading directly to the village entrance. It was a small relief, but it now allowed Juli to fully observe the environment around them. Lorentil was nothing more but an outskirt, farming planet on the edge of Lylat control. Lylat, a growing star system which the empire had curiously grown interested in in the same manner as with her own. As they headed north she noticed that one of the bombs had landed to the east of the village, creating a deep, smoking crater. The sound of rushing water could be heard in the distance as her eyes made out the outline of a river flooding into the artificial depths that had disturbed its natural flow.

A new smell began to fill the air and the scent of ash grew thicker. It was a meaty smell, like that of something charring over a flame. Flesh. The thought of it made Juli's stomach turn and she glared at the guards with their helmets enviously, aware that they couldn't observe the way she was being forced to. As they made their way to the entrance they were met first by a wagon ablaze. Two large remains of what looked like cattle were smoking heavily; there were no signs of any people within the fire. Red captain gave her a quick glance but Juli ignored him, turning her attention to an arching gateway into the village. The name of the village used to be written on it, Juli assumed, but it was now just an ashy and illegible mess.

"Alright, men," began red captain. "Set your scanners for 'Sil-waves'. Let's see if our Occult friends predicted right with this planet."

The other men nodded and prodded on their helmets with a free hand before taking hold of the rifles that were held magnetically on their backs. All of them turned on their rifle lights and then separated into different directions around the village.

"My lady, you're with me," said the captain. He nudged his gun in a direction away from the other guards.

She followed a short distance behind him, looking into the charred corpses of homes the creatures who had made the farming planet their habitat. It was then that she saw her first casualties of the bombing. Their appearance had first surprised her but that quickly grew into pity. Juli couldn't discern what the creature was wearing but at this point they looked like rags. Whoever he or it was, it had pointed ears and a long muzzle. His hands were clawed and his body furry all over in an appearance more like wolves.

"Ugly critters, aren't they," whispered red captain to her. She gave him an unamused look and kept silent. "I understand you're not happy to be here. I have to admit I was surprised that you requested to come down and see the results of the conquest."

"I wanted to see with my own eyes," she started before taking a breath. "I wanted to see…I wanted to feel what this is like as an outsider. If there was any feeling or enjoyment. But in the end, I just feel empty. There is nothing. No attachment or understanding. Just remorse."

"If you say so," he replied, turning his direction further ahead. "I'm not receiving any signs of waves here. I'm thinking the Occult made a mistake again." He took a few steps ahead and opened up his communicator. A few pings and beeps later he was talking in a lowered voice to the other guards. By his disapproving tone, she inferred that no one had had such luck finding any 'waves'.

In the quiet of the crackling flames, a new sound caught Juli's attention, causing her to turn. There was a quick rustling from one of the damaged homes followed by a pained grunt. She gave red captain a cursory glance before moving toward the source. Turning a corner, she saw ashy footprints leading to the rear of the building, a grayish object twitching at the end. Making her way closer she could hear the sounds of labored breathing and panicked muttering.

"Go away, go away, go away," the voice repeated.

"Hello," Juli called out. The voice became silent and even the breathing had ceased. She peered around the corner and gasped in surprise, making eye contact with a local child. He too was of lupine build; gray pointed ears, ragged clothing, and a violet colored eye staring back at her. His features were too alien for her to read but she could sense he was afraid of her. "Hello," she repeated in a quieter voice. "Are you okay?"

The wolf-thing hesitated before answering. "No." At closer examination, Juli saw that his left hand was clutched over his eye, the other trembling and holding a blaster pointed at her. "You…you did this, didn't you," he accused, his voice quivering.

Though the gun should've had her alerted, Juli knelt down close to him. She could see he was only a bit taller than her. He jerked in surprise as she came nearer, the gun still shaking in his right hand. "I won't hurt you," she said, trying to comfort him. "You're injured…I think I can help."

"No! Get back!" The wolf stammered and jumped back up to his feet, gun still pointed at her. "I'll shoot! Get away! You did this! You killed everyone!"

She stood back up calmly. "You're no older than me, aren't you?" The question confused the wolf pup, his one good eye widening and his jaw agape in what Juli guessed was an expression of surprise. "I assume my appearance is new to you or have you seen a human before?" She waited for him to nervously shake his head. "I see. Do you know if anyone else is alive?" Another nervous shake gave her the answer she already knew was true.

There was a quick flash of light and an electrical hiss that shot through the air suddenly; the lupine child howled in surprise as his blaster was thrust away from his hand. A blinding light was directed at them both followed by a shout and the click of a rifle being reloaded. Instinctively, Juli raised up both her arms as quick as she could as another hiss rang out, only to be met with a dull thud. The lupine had crouched over, covering his head in fear. A gentle hum rang in his ear and his curiosity got the better of him as he peered up from his position.

The human girl beside him stood still, blue eyes lightly aglow. Somehow, the two of them were surrounded by a barrier that gave off a dim light. Juli's attention was to the men in front of her, her expression finally showing her disgust.

"You can lower your Aegis barrier now, Princess. Leave the survivor to us," said one of the white guards, his rifle still aimed at the wolf.

"I refuse."

"Don't make this any more difficult for you. You will be punished, otherwise."

"I highly doubt that." She looked briefly at the wolf-pup, an incredulous look on his face. "I take it that even though you did usurp my kingdom, keeping me as a Princess is more for propaganda. How do you think the emperor will take it to hear that I've been abused when we return to Gimlei? What will the people think of it?"

The white guard gave it a thought then lowered his rifle. "Fine, suit yourself." The other guards soon rejoined them as well as the red captain.

"What the hell is this," he demanded.

"A survivor. He's only a child," Juli replied. "He means no harm; you can't hurt him!"

"No harm, my ass," rebuked the earlier guard. "The monster had a gun aimed at her earlier."

"He was afraid!" She shot back. "But now it's gone and no harm is done, right?"

The other guards shuffled uncomfortably. "Lower your barrier, Princess," red captain said sternly. "There's nothing you can do for the child."

A small whimper came from the wolf behind her as she huffed defiantly. "If I am now Princess of the outer Midgard Empire, then I demand that this child be put under my charge and protection." She didn't need to see the captain's eyes to know he was glaring at her. "Any harm to him will be reported back in Gimlei."

Red captain hesitated. "Are you sure you want this _pet,_ " he said through gritted teeth. "He will be your sole responsibility back on board the cruiser." She nodded. "Fine, lower your guns, men." They gave him a quick look in protest but did as they were told. "You win this time, Princess. Lower the damn shield."

Juli returned her hands to her side and the barrier faded. "Thank you," she said strongly.

"Alright, back to the ship, you lot," grumbled the captain. "And you, dog," he pointed at the lupine, "keep up the pace before I change my mind and shoot you outright."

He nodded and stumbled to get up. Juli returned to his side and knelt back down to help him. "Thank you, I guess," he mumbled with flattened ears.

"You're welcome," she replied with a sad smile. "But I'm sorry for turning you into a prisoner as well."

"I figured you were their captive with the way they were treating you," he grunted as he stood up. He turned to look at her, his left paw once again clutching over his left eye. "I…I can't see out of this eye. It think…I lost it," he let out flatly.

"I'm sorry," Juli muttered as they began their walk back to the caravan. "Does it hurt?"

"No," he said, but he grimaced anyway.

"Do you need help walking?"

"No…it's really just my eye," he said.

She sighed. "Well, do you have a name? We're in this together now so I'd like to have something to call you by."

He hesitated a moment, sniffling. "At this point I don't think it matters. I'm a prisoner by people I don't even know. My family and friends are dead thanks to your attack. I might as well be dead too."

"Then how about I pick a name for you," she thought for a moment. "Forgive me, I can't think of anything creative."

"Anything is fine."

"Then how about just Wolf?"

Wolf was silent for a moment then turned to meet her gaze with his one good eye. In that moment they knew that their fates were tied together regardless of what the future would hold. "Wolf works fine," he said with a smile. "But I'll keep my last name to remember where I came from. Wolf O'Donnel."

Juli smiled back. "Julianne Vanaheim." She hesitated before reluctantly adding in, "…Midgard."

The trek back to the caravan seemed shorter than when they had arrived. Juli quietly entered while the guards shoved Wolf in beside her with a curse. He bared his teeth in return but knew he was helpless to do anything else. With a quick shake and rumble, the engines came back to life and the vehicle slowly ascended up into the stars. Taking one last look at the burning village below, Wolf gave a silent farewell to what was once his home.


	2. Chapter 01 - Nothing is Routine Anymore

**[Star Fox: Universe R(aid)]**

 **Bryyo**

 _Star Fox and characters within the Nintendo universe are copyright their respected owners._

* * *

 **Chapter One: Nothing is Routine Anymore**

* * *

 _Lylat – Present Day (10 years later)  
Corneria Territory  
Planet: Papetoon  
Papetoon Naval Academy for Young Recruits_

"Fox McCloud. Wow. What a show off," muttered voices among a crowd of onlookers who stood behind a chained fence at the academy shooting range. "Of course he'll be able to pull off this stunt."

Fox was accustomed to the remarks his peers made since his transfer into the academy three years ago. He had first thought that being the son of the great Commander James McCloud came with an easy pass into popularity, but it had proven the opposite. Students gave him harsh looks and claimed his deeds to be under favoritism. Though, at the moment, he drowned out all the comments and focused his attention onto a disassembled blaster on the table in front of him.

The objective of this drill was to reassemble the weapon, making sure to properly secure the energy crystal into its chamber to avoid a backfire. Then, take aim at marked targets placed twenty meters in front of them and fire a critical shot. It wasn't anything too difficult for Fox and he was aware the other four students who were competing with him knew as well. Heaven forbid the vulpine hold himself back for their sake. Behind them, the murmuring of spectating students continued.

"Falco, I love you!" shouted a female student, who was reprimanded immediately by the instructor. The student beside Fox turned to the crowd of onlookers and waved with a grin, his blue feathers glistening under the Papetoon sun. He gave out a cocky hoot and turned to give the vulpine a scowl before setting his attention back on the instructor.

"What a bastard," Fox said under his breath. If there was anyone in the academy that grated his nerves it was Falco Lombardi. What made matters worse was that Falco was the spearhead of anything anti-Fox on campus. He and his fan club would make up whatever rumor they wanted and he'd be the first to vouch all of it was true. Who was receiving special attention? Of course it was Fox. Who sucks up to all the teachers? Fox. Who was it that used a special fighter jet for practice? Fox, just to look good. And most recently, who was it that can't get a girlfriend because he wasn't well…endowed in certain areas? Fox.

It was all juvenile but after keeping a strong front for so long the vulpine was running out of patience. A few times he had thought about reporting the harassment but felt that would only prove their point. Should the instructors and the administration do anything in his favor it would only cement the belief that he was receiving special treatment. Fox had to do everything on his own, even if it meant that he'd be ridiculed for it. It never looked good when an eighteen-year-old couldn't even stand up to his peers.

"Alright, recruits," began their instructor. He was a stern-faced bull dog who didn't take disrespect lightly. "You all know what is expected of you here. The top five of your class have been arranged before you to show just how well they know their own guns."

"Unfortunately for you brats, we didn't take your precious toys and, instead, gave you salvaged gear from previous battles." This was met with disapproving grunts from the students. "If you're out in the field and you've lost your own weapon, you may need to take another. One you are not so intimate with. You may be stuck with that gun for a long time and you'll still need to know how to take care of it. How to clean it. Especially, how to repair it."

Fox stared back at the disassembled pieces before him, taking stock of the barrel, the hilt, and the energy crystal. In his mind he began reshaping it, connecting piece by piece until he was certain his mental trial was sufficient for the real test. The instructor raised his muscular arm in the air and shouted a quick command for attention. The vulpine eyed him intently, not intending to lose to Falco.

"Recruits! Begin!"

All five of the recruits grasped at the fragmented weapons on the tables. Some stumbled and a few pieces fell to the ground, granting Fox an opportunity to take a quick lead. His paws recounted the steps he took in his head: grab the hilt, attach the barrel to this piece, and carefully place in the energy crystal. Almost everything was the same as his own weapon and it made him wonder if he was making any errors. He gave Falco a quick glance and saw that the both of them were neck and neck with each other. They met each other's gaze, never leaving eye contact as they assembled the final piece of their weapon. Simultaneously, they raised their blasters, aimed toward the targets ahead of them and…

With a loud hiss, a charged blast escaped from Foxes barrel and burned into dummy target in front of him. A critical head shot. Taking a glance over at Falco's target, he was astonished to see that there was no hint of impact. He heard the avian cursing, his weapon shattered and the feathers on his hand lightly burnt. Amidst the cries of surprise from his classmates rang two other shots and one last shout as another weapon backfired.

"Enough," barked out their instructor. "Three successes and two failures. Bill, Baxter, good job," he said taking steps toward Fox. "Fox, your father would be proud. You've tied him with the record of fastest reassembly of a weapon. Though, it looks like you are a better shot than him." This made Fox grin, knowing he beat his own dad at something, but the disapproving whispers in the crowd quickly cleared his face.

"And you two," he said sternly, his attention at Falco and their last classmate, a husky named Walt, "meet in my office and we will discuss just how important it is that you do not put in your energy crystals backward! The rest of you, return your guns to the registry at the entrance of the academy. Dismissed!"

Fox grabbed his blaster and locked in the safety before holstering it at his hip. A few soldiers shuffled out to clean up the targets in the distance as Fox gave his mark one last good look with a sigh. No doubt he was the best shot out of all his peers; the other students' shots were only on the arm or lower torso. However, with the shadow of his father looming around every corner Fox felt there was no way anyone would acknowledge him for how well he had done. Anyone beside his teachers and father of course. Shaking his head, he turned away toward the academy doors.

The two students who also passed their demonstration, Baxter and Bill, were with him at the back of the group. Bill, a pit-bull dog, gave Fox a grin and a thumbs up before rushing ahead of…

"Oh, my poor Falco!"

Fox rolled his eyes and sped up with the others to avoid the bird and his pink feline friend cradling his injured hand.

"It's nothing," he could hear the avian say. "I bet that stupid Fox did something to my blaster. Probably got his set up special for him."

"Oh I bet," echoed the feline, glaring at Fox's direction while loudly adding, "We all know that McCloud gets special attention!"

"Hey, McCloud," Falco jeered, joining in. "It's impolite to ignore a lady! Ain't that right, Katt?" She hissed and laughed in agreement. "Why don't you run back to daddy and tell him golden boy aced another cheat display."

"Fuck off, Falco," shouted Fox. "Maybe if you actually knew how to use a blaster you'd still have enough feathers to fly!"

If birds could change color, Falco would be a prime example; his blue face began to flush into many shades of red. He ran toward the vulpine, ignoring Katt as she yanked her hand back. Fox bolted away, merely a good ten yards away from the academy doors. He pulled out the blaster and holster from his waist and shoved it into the arms of a canine soldier who barked out in protest. Unfortunately for Falco, Fox was also known for his speed. Like gliding through air, he made his way down the long hallway, avoiding other students while rushing into an elevator. Falco's curses could be heard, though distant, as the doors shut. It was a good moment to catch his breath and Fox allowed himself to slide down and sit on the floor.

That was the first time he had shouted back at Falco. He grinned, feeling proud of himself for standing up to the jerk. Even more so than with how well he did at the range. "That's right you bastard," he said with a chuckle. "I'll show you just how much better I am."

The doors opened and the vulpine stepped out into a large, indoor, circular expanse. The glass ceiling kept the area very bright and allowed green plants to grow at the bottom floor of the quad. There were five main levels of the academy, the first four floors representing classrooms and offices for the students based on their age and class year. The final and top floor was set apart only for enlisted soldiers and officers. It contained many rooms which Fox assumed were used for secret meetings and debriefings he was not yet privy to. Normally students were also prohibited from entering the floor, but as James McCloud's son, Fox was 'awarded' the opportunity. On the opposite end of the elevators was an opening which extended into a glass covered bridge leading in four different directions. One way led toward the military installment, another to the industrial compound, and the final to the living quarters, where Fox made his way toward. Outside, the barren Papetoon land reflected the deep oranges and purples of impending night. No matter how beautiful the desert planet appeared to be, Fox felt loathing for the schooling he had to endure.

"Well, I heard you did quite amazing today."

Fox turned his head and smiled. "Hey, Dad." James McCloud stood at the same height of his son, dressed up in full uniform. "It was alright."

"Just alright?" His father gave a throaty laugh, tail wagging. "Son, I heard you aimed right at the target's head. Straight in the middle. I'd say that's amazing. Your instructor says you were the top of the group."

The younger vulpine frowned. "I wish you didn't have to speak with the instructors so often. It makes things look bad."

"C'mon, let's keep walking home," James suggested, nudging his son out of the evening sun seeping through the glass. "Tell me about it. Does this have to do with that Falco troublemaker again?"

"Yes and no," Fox admitted while scratching behind his ears. "It's just, no matter what I do or how well I do it, nothing seems to amaze any of the other students here. I can make a perfect, critical shot and no one cares."

"I can assure you the officers have been watching."

"That's different."

"You're right," James agreed. "They're the ones with opinions that truly matter."

Fox shrugged. "Hell, I can do loops using my arwing and my class will quickly cry foul."

"Don't forget you are the only one who has his own, personal arwing," his father chimed in.

"You're not helping!" Fox groaned. "I just hate it here. I miss my old school back in Corneria."

"Ah, this again," James mused. "Son, I know things are difficult here but you know how the military works. They tell me to go someplace and I must go."

"Yeah, but you get the choice to refuse or not!"

"That's true," he surrendered. "But this is where your mother and I raised you before she died and I had thought it'd be good for you to come back."

Fox rolled his ears back. "Only bad things happen here." His father didn't reply. "I wish I was just a normal guy here sometimes. Just a regular kid who's good work actually gave him some credibility."

"You don't mean that," his father started.

"But I do!" Fox snapped back, ears twitching. "If I had a normal family no one would accuse me of being the favorite. I wish I wasn't your son sometimes."

"Fox," James trailed off. They continued their way to the front doors of their loft in silence. It was, ironically, the best unit housing on the campus and base. James shuffled for the key card in his pockets and unlocked the door. They slid open, expectantly, though the two vulpine men stood still. "You ready for dinner, kiddo," asked James, a small frown on his muzzle.

Fox thought for a moment, feeling guilty for his comments earlier. "No, not just yet. I think…I…whatever, I just need to walk some more. Alone."

"Don't be too late," replied James, stepping inside and letting the doors close behind him. Fox stared blankly at them before making his way to the nearest elevator. He pressed the down button and entered, hitting another button labeled G.

He was greeted by the hum of conversations and a vast crowd of students, military and civilians alike. He spied at the number of stores and restaurants that littered the lowest level of the living quarters. There were a few students who Fox recognized but no one he needed to avoid as he walked aimlessly, taking stock of the new gadgets each shop had on display in their front windows. At one point he saw Bill chatting with a few of his friends. The bulldog waved a friendly greeting but Fox only nodded and walked on.

An hour flew by before the vulpine finally settled for a coffee and seated himself on a lonely bench in a commercial plaza, eyeing a few younger children splashing in the fountain at the center. Apologizing to his father was plaguing his mind. Yet, the guilt was also combating his own justification that life would be better if he was just like the ordinary kids in his class. Fox leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, the glass black from night.

"Fox?" A green figure peered over his vision and was giving him an inquisitive look. "It is you! Wow!"

He returned to a more comfortable position in his chair and greeted his new guest. "Hey. You…obviously know me but I don't know you."

"Oh, I'm Slippy." He was a green toad that Fox swore looked familiar. "I know I'm an underclassman but you helped me out during last month's drills," he added, noticing the vulpine's curious look.

"Oh, Slippy!" Fox replied, acting as if he did remember. "How are you? Sorry, I've just been out of it today."

"Why's that? I thought you would've been having a wonderful day!" Slippy said with enthusiasm. "Having tied with the best reassembly time and making a perfect, critical shot on a target!"

"Well, if you put it that way," he blushed. He had never had a fan before.

"Oh it was amazing! I didn't see it in person, no. But it was on holo-vid over campus. Really neat stuff."

"I wasn't aware it was televised."

"It wasn't, but one of the members from film club brought his camera and streamed it over the net."

"I see," grinned Fox. "I guess that makes me mister popular?"

"Well," started Slippy, "most of the club wanted Falco to win, but I was rooting for you the whole time!"

"Oh," Fox replied, his ears flattening.

"No, no, I'm sorry. There were others rooting for you too! It's just hard being so open about it with Falco and all."

"I know how that is." Fox sighed and looked away. "Seems like he has it in for me."

The toad took the chance to observe the vulpine closely. He had very youthful features though his eyes were dark with longing. They shouted out in fury of the loneliness and anger he had to have felt since his transfer to Papetoon Academy. "Excuse me for asking, Fox, but do you have any friends here?"

Fox jumped at the question. "I, uh, of course! I have friends! Most of them are busy with my father."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Just busy. Like, General Peppy! He's –"

"Is that, Headmaster Peppy, you mean?"

"Well…yeah. But he and my dad have been pals forever so –"

"Fox, I mean on campus. Any of the students?"

The vulpine hesitated then slumped. "No. Not really." He looked sheepishly back at Slippy. "Is that weird?"

"Well… You are the son of Commander James McCloud. That should do something for you."

Fox scoffed. "The only thing that has done is make things worse. Everyone thinks I get special treatment."

"You do live in the best loft in the building, you gotta' admit." Fox glared back a moment and then laughed. "Did I say something funny," smiled Slippy.

"No. Yes. It's just when you put it that way, it is kind of special treatment."

"Then would you like to live in the barracks with the rest of us?"

"Hell no!" Fox took a sip at his coffee. "Seriously, though. Falco sort of just took charge of my social life and stomped on it the moment I moved in. It's not like I don't work hard at what I do. I wish the others can see that."

"They do," admitted Slippy, meeting Fox's gaze. "You may not know it but a lot of people respect you. They may mostly be underclassmen but we do hear things. I know Bill has a respect for you and, even if he is an odd ball, he's one of the guys who isn't afraid to let Falco know it."

Fox let that sink in for a moment before nodding, though not entirely convinced.

"And if it helps," Slippy added, "I admire you. You're amazing at things like shooting, flying. Almost everything. And I want you to know that you're my idol. I strive to do what you do. I want to be as good as you, someday."

The vulpine couldn't hide his blushing. No one had paid him that kind of compliment since his transfer. No one who wasn't a friend of his father's. "Thanks, Slip," he stammered. "That means a lot to me."

"Don't mention it," the toad smiled back. "By the way, not that I'm not having a good time or anything, but you do have flight trials tomorrow, right? Should you be resting?"

"I had almost forgot," jumped Fox. He tossed his empty coffee cup into a nearby garbage can and turned to Slippy one last time. "Hey, thanks for cheering me up. I was in a slump there."

"You've thanked me a lot already," he smiled back. "But if it helps, I can be a friend to you if you want. Even if I'm an underclassman. And you know, break this Falco routine."

"Sure. And we'll make sure nothing is routine anymore," Fox smiled. "I'll catch you later." He gave one last wave and made his way back up the elevator that led to his loft, a grin on his face.

At the front of his door he thought he overheard voices speaking on the other side. _Probably just dad watching television,_ he thought as he fumbled through his pocket for the keycard. "Dad, I'm sorry I'm late," he began but stopped when he entered the living room. Two other men were there along with his father, all still in full uniform. "Oh, I didn't know we were having guests."

"Fox," James said, his voice firm, "go to your room now. The General, Pigma and I have much to discuss."

He took a quick glance at all three of them. They all wore frowns which only darkened the mood more in the silence. Pigma, one of James's friends Fox rarely met, kept twitching on the living room sofa. A chubby pig with dark eyes and two tusks that gave him the look of an under-bite. Peppy stood, giving him a discerning eye, with his hands held behind him and his rabbit ears lazily drooping at mid-length. "Alright," he said with curiosity.

"Fox," Peppy merely nodded before turning back to his father. "Shall we continue this in your study?"

"Yes. That's a good idea," agreed James, leading them to the opposite end of the loft. There was a soft click and hiss as Fox could hear the doors slide open. His father turned the corner one last time to give his son a nod before disappearing inside with the other guests.

Rather than go into his room as instructed, Fox shrugged and stepped into the kitchen, taking stock of what could be easily heated in the microwave from the fridge before deciding on leftover pork chops from a few nights before. His paw grasped onto the heated meal and made his way into the living room, choosing to slump on the floor and lean on the sofa than sit on it. While cutting into his meal he heard a cough coming from the other end of the hallway and a shout. His ears cocked up to see if he could pick up anything else on what the older men were discussing. Unable to hold back his curiosity, he stood back up and softly stepped next to the office doors.

Their voices were muffled but he could barely make out, "It's outrageous! To think they won't do anything to support us," rang Pigma's anxious voice. He nudged forward a bit more and let his ears cup against the doors.

Peppy was speaking this time. "It stands to show that the Galatic Federation doesn't and will not involve itself in matters it deems are beyond its jurisdiction. Be it a human matter or not, the Midgard Empire is free to expand its reach unopposed."

"And here we thought they were only after the colonies in the outskirts of Lylat," his father muttered. "What is Corneria's take on this?"

"They're clearly exasperated by the encroachment but parliament is unsure on how to approach it."

"Then could this mean the Empire has taken interest in the Corneria system after all? Are they preparing for an invasion? Parliament has to decide on what course of action to take!"

"Rather they don't want to," fumed Pigma. "All I know is what I saw on recon. Scans show increased activity around and on Venom's surface. Development has gone from nothing to a near metropolis in less than a year. That kind of thing doesn't just happen."

There was the sound of liquid pouring into a glass followed by a brief silence before the conversation continued. "Are we to assume the General/Doctor is involved," asked James.

Peppy hesitated. "There isn't much news on Andross since he defected out of the military but the general consensus is that he is working with the Empire now."

"How did that come about?"

"He was very vocal in his support of surrendering to Midgard. It wasn't a popular position, of course. Not to mention his research on terraforming and the manipulation of Venom's environment to become sufficient for life. Everything points to him."

Fox shuffled to get into a more comfortable position. He wasn't quite sure what was going on or who this Andross guy was, but his curiosity wasn't yet satiated. "He is involved," he heard Pigma stutter, followed by the sound of shuffling papers.

"Who?"

"Andross, here."

There was another pause. "It does look like him, doesn't it?"

"If that's the case then he has indeed gone traitor," James said.

"Where did you get these images from," asked Peppy. Fox was curious as to what they had to be looking at.

"Took them myself."

"Pigma! You were not supposed to land on Venom during recon!"

"Does it matter now? I saw an opportunity and I took it. But here, see! That's Andross and those are Imperial soldiers."

The men paused before James asked, "This looks like they are becoming militant. Notice his uniform. Is that Imperial?"

"I'm not sure. But see those insignias on the human soldiers? That's an Imperial Aegis. That one a Longinus. The Lylatians with the humans are…"

"Also uniformed…"

Peppy grunted, "What is that over there?"

"Where?"

"Here. Looks like a Lylatian but the build is off. Taller. Jackal like. Is he some sort of officer? Those robes…"

"I don't know," confessed Pigma. "They gave off some weird vibes though." He paused before adding, "I can't explain it. Just a gut feeling."

"Have you sent these into headquarters," asked Peppy.

"Soon. But Papetoon is the closest facility I could reach from Venom."

"Then we're in danger," James concluded. "The school and base would make for a good outpost for us and them, should we lose it. We should raise the alert level. Inform Corneria."

"Not just yet," Peppy interrupted. "These images suggest Andross's involvement but not any aggression yet."

"And the Imperial presence doesn't," Pigma said in disbelief.

"What do you suggest we do," asked James.

"We'll need more information. Pigma, you'll need to go back."

"What!? Why," the pig demanded. "This should be enough."

"I want to be sure," Peppy added. "James, you go with him. Perhaps two set of eyes will be better. It's not that I don't trust you, Pigma, we just really need to be sure. We don't want to provoke the Empire into attacking the home system if we are mistaken."

"We'll leave tomorrow morning then," James said. "Understood, Pigma?"

"Fine," he replied reluctantly. "But like I've said, things are getting bad."

"Very well," said Peppy, followed by the sound of shuffling feet. Fox sprang up and made for his room, leaving the door cracked enough to peer out at the men. "I'll inform the engineers to get your fighters ready. As for me, I'll take the next shuttle out and report our findings to Corneria in person."

"How soon will you return?"

"We shall see. Parliament loves to drag its heels. Anyway, tell Fox I said good night and good luck with his flight tomorrow."

"I will," James replied. "He won't be happy to hear I'll miss it but he'll understand. Pigma, you staying?"

"No," answered the pig. "If we're leaving tomorrow there are a few things I need to do before setting out. I'll see you at 400."

The sound of the sliding doors hissing shut prompted Fox to jump on his bed and grab the nearest book on his nightstand. His father's footsteps became louder and his door slid open fully. He looked up at him, expectantly.

"I see you've found analytic geometry fascinating."

Fox glanced at his book, realizing it was also upside down. "Very," he replied flatly.

James took a seat next to Fox on his bed. "If you are like me, as I expect you are, you heard enough to know what's going on."

"Is it really that bad?"

James stared at his son's face, unsure how to reply. "Not yet," he decided on. "But we'll be certain soon. I'll be gone for a bit but don't you worry. You just think about showing everyone what an amazing pilot you are tomorrow." He took the chance to pat his son on the head.

"Dad!" Fox protested, his father laughing.

"I'll see you in the morning, kiddo."

"Dad," began Fox, stopping his father before the door shut. "I'm sorry about earlier."

His father grinned back. "I'm used to teenagers, son. Don't worry about it. Good night."

"G'night."


	3. Chapter 02 - Claws and Feathers

**[Star Fox: Universe R(aid)]**

 **Bryyo**

 _Star Fox and all characters from within the Nintendo universe are copyright their respected owners._

* * *

 **Chapter Two – Claws and Feathers**

* * *

Fighter exhibition and training was one of the most, if not _the_ most, popular day at the Papetoon Academy for Young Recruits. The morning of the event the halls of the academy were decorated in banners and posters displaying the names and faces of participants for the current school year. Anyone involved in student government and clubs would set up tables with various paraphernalia to hand out to underclassmen and military personnel alike. Several booths contained baked goods to assist with fundraising and advertising for their own unique clubs and interests. Classes were still held but lessons were put aside by many of the instructors so students could either attend or sit and watch the televised exhibition.

All of the festivities took place within the enclosed buildings that made up the school and military base since Papetoon was a dry and arid place. It was nestled in a rocky corner at the front of a mountainous region of the planet; the four towers for each division of the school dwarfed by the height of the orange plateaus. Both the industrial complex and living quarters were positioned closest to the rock face, providing access to drilling locations as well as protection from any potential outside force. There were a series of tunnels that branched out inside the mountain for civilian use and evacuation should the need arise, but made good hiking and sightseeing trails for the meantime.

The academy and the military compound stood at the front of the building before a flat plain that was dotted here and there with weeds and cacti. The entire area belonged to the military but was usable by upperclassmen with the proper credentials. Areas like the shooting range, docking and shuttle bay, fighter bay and landing strip could be accessed. The climate rarely changed around the area and only shifted between hot, hotter and then hellish. Civilian and military alike often opted to stay within the air-conditioned building.

Today was one of the day's the weather chose to remain at the hellish level so all spectators stayed indoors behind either their flat screen or holo-screen displays set up within the commercial plazas. Almost every room and building were teeming with people. Most especially the fighter bays; soldiers and engineers alike were scrambling from craft to craft making sure each was properly fueled and charged. Announcements blared overhead regarding current wind speed, direction, as well as weather. And within all this hustle and bustle stood five of the schools finest in line, each in front of a Falcon-class jet, save one vulpine who stood before an Arwing I.

"Listen up, recruits," began their bull dog instructor, "normally your headmaster, General Peppy, would be here giving you this last speech but I'm standing in since he has been called away to Corneria." He paused as the students gave each other puzzled looks, Fox being the only one to remain at attention. "We have Baxter Reynolds, Bill Grey, Fox McCloud, Falco Lombardi and Oliver Walt. All top of your class."

"Despite some set-backs and interesting exhibition displays, you've all managed to impress your superiors enough to participate in the fighter exhibition. You may already know what is expected of you but I'm required to cite instructions every year. Once you have lifted off, you are to remain within a one hundred kilometer radius of the compound. Each fighter has a locating device so yes; we'll know where you are. Our logistic pilots have already placed out empty supply rings on the ground: they will launch up into the sky and open after you set off."

"The goal is to fly through as many 'rings' as possible. The pilot who passes through the most rings will be considered the winner of this exhibition and entitled to start their military career three pay scales ahead. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," all five students shouted.

"Very well! Now-"

"Sir," interrupted Falco, still at attention. "Is it proper for McCloud to be using a different fighter than the rest of us, Sir?"

The students shuffled uncomfortably as the instructor answered, "The Arwing I, compared to the Falcon jet, is a much more complicated vehicle to use. The pilot has to be of advanced skill in order to monitor engines, weapons, navigation and more. That being said, both jets fly at similar velocity and acceleration."

"But different enough to make a difference," Falco added stiffly.

"The decision is already made, Lombardi, whether you like it or not." The avian squinted his eyes and grunted. Fox could see at the corner of his eye he was balling a fist.

"Now that that is settled, I want to introduce you to your underclass analyst who will be working by your side, here on land." The instructor waved his hand toward another group of five students who were waiting in the dock vestibule. Even though he was still at attention, Fox could make out the outline of Slippy approaching, a grin on his face. "Your analyst will inform you of your current position around campus, where nearby supply rings are as well as when new rings will be launched. Take this time to get acquainted with one another. You have fifteen minutes to prepare and get ready. Dismissed, and good luck!"

"Sir," they shouted and eased their stances. Fox made for his Arwing I behind him, opening the lower maintenance panel and clicking a few buttons.

"Hey, McCloud. Fox." Behind him stood Bill, his green and yellow helmet cradled between his left arm and hip. He was a pretty athletic looking pit-bull dog; Fox recalled he and his friends frequented the campus gym more than he.

"What's up, Bill," Fox replied.

"Just wanted to say good luck out there," he said, bumping his free fist onto Fox's shoulder. "And ignore the _bird_. Everyone knows he has some stick deep up his ass."

"Thanks, Bill," chuckled Fox. "You too. Good luck."

"Don't need it," he smiled. "By the way. The guys and I were wondering if you'd join us for a celebratory dinner tonight. Regardless of how the exhibition goes. What do you say?"

Fox blinked. This would be the first time he'd be on a social outing with classmates. He recalled Slippy's comments from the night before and started to believe there was merit to them. "That sounds great. I'll do it," he answered as they were approached by Slippy and a female otter.

"Awesome, McCloud. I'll text you later on campus link." Before the analysts had a chance to talk, Bill wrapped his free arm around the otter and led her toward his fighter. "Well hello, beautiful. Why don't you come this way with me?"

The vulpine and toad both gawked as the otter stuttered a remark in full blush. "Wow," started Slippy, "I had heard Bill was a flirt but that was something, huh?"

"I wouldn't know," Fox admitted. "I guess you're my analyst then? How are you doing, Slip?"

"Great," the toad beamed. "Me and Kara were fighting who'd get to be your analyst but I guess that problem got solved. You excited?"

"Of course I am!" He looked up at his Arwing I, admiring its build. "I haven't taken this girl out in a long while. I've been itching for the sky."

"That's good to hear. If you look over here a moment," he directed Fox to a fold up table with a laptop and large headphones set on it. "I'll be monitoring your progress here and giving you directions on the supply rings as information jumps."

"Awesome, thanks." Fox took a look at his watch. "Looks like I should get ready. See you on the winning side," he grinned.

"Of course," Slippy answered with a thumbs up.

Fox shut the maintenance panel and climbed his way up into the cockpit. The vulpine rested onto his cushioned seat, inhaling the smell of his vehicle in delight. He flicked a few switches here and there and listened as the fighter hummed to life. A grin formed on his muzzle and he put on his helmet and adjusted both his eyepiece and mic. Lights danced in front of his eyes from the HUD as the front blast doors opened.

"Everything is green, here," he heard Slippy say over the radio.

"Gotcha, Slip," he replied. "Adjusting radio to accept signals B, C, and Z." A few button clicks and his earpiece picked up more conversation from the students around him.

"…it's awesome! You suckers got some lame analyst and I get the babe," he heard an excited Bill say.

"You're such a pig, Bill."

"What's wrong, Walt? Jealous?"

"So what? You can't hog all the good looking ones from us!"

There was another laugh from who Fox assumed was Reynolds. "Walt's jealous you get all the good guys away from him, Bill."

"Am not," Walt protested. "But hell, Bill, stop taking all of them from us." And with a chuckle, "we all need love from the guys and girls too."

"I consider myself equal opportunity," Bill remarked, the others laughing harder.

"Just what did I stumble across here," puzzled Fox.

"Oy! McCloud is here," came a reply. "'Bout time you joined in. Bill says you're joining us for dinner tonight."

"Is he equal opportunity too?" Joked Reynolds, followed by more laughter.

"Don't be silly," Bill chuckled.

"A little decorum, please," said Falco's voice stiffly.

"Sure, sure," mumbled Walt. "Prepping engines now."

"Same here."

"Done."

The noise of the combined engines grew to a low roar and pilots made final adjustments on their panels and to their head gear before anxiously eyeing the runway. Over the radio came the commands from the control room to make their last minute preparations before take-off. Fox glanced at his colleagues who were all waiting with determination on their faces. An alert popped up on the vulpine's HUD display with information of his arwing's current status.

"Wow, Slip," he said. "You really know how to take of this girl on the tech-side."

"Thanks, Fox. Just a few more moments on my end. It looks like the instructor is about to make the final announcement." The toad was correct as in a few moments Fox could hear the bulldog's voice over his headset.

"Attention recruits. This is your instructor speaking. In a few moments we will be granting take-off requests individually. Pay careful attention to your assigned tech-analysts as they'll let you know all you need to know up in the air. The administration would also like to remind you all that this is a televised event shown all through the base so give everyone a good show. All of you, good luck."

Just moments after the announcement there came a roar to Fox's left. Streaking forward was Falco, his falcon class jet leaving a blur of distorted air and smoke as it launched upward and took flight. He may have disliked the avian but watching him go made the vulpine whistle in admiration. It would be his turn soon. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he shivered in anticipation. The next fighter launched forward taking Reynolds up into the sky. He was shortly followed by Walt and Bill, who grinned at Fox before zipping across the runway.

"Ten seconds, Fox," said Slippy.

His grip tightened on his control column. Squinting his eyes, he peered forward at the dark runway and sunny exit. A grin returned on his muzzle and his leg bounced as he heard Slippy's voice count down the last few seconds. He pushed forward on his accelerator.

Five.

He took a deep breath.

Four…three.

Final adjustments on the console.

Two…one.

"Go!"

Fox activated the main thrusters and launched forward, the inertia shoving him into his cushioned seat. Lights zipped by at a blur as he raced closer and closer to the blast doors. Sunlight poured into his cockpit and his HUD display automatically dimmed. With a light tug, he pulled on his control cylinder and the loud hum of the arwing's tires on asphalt came to a halt. In its place was the light whistling of air brushing against the metal of his jet.

All five pilots were now in the skies; each circled around the academy awaiting further instructions from their analysts back on base. Fox glimpsed out of his window to take in the dry, Papetoon scenery, the sun extending its reach onto the flat land and breaking only at the foot of the mountains and plateaus. Shadows weaved to and fro in a web-like pattern in deep contrast to the orange landscape. It was at this moment that Fox felt an appreciation for his relocation to the academy.

"Everything is checking up good down here," Slippy called over the radio. "We're still awaiting signals for emerging supply rings."

"Understood, Slip. I'll let you…," before he could finish, rockets flared up from the ground and into the sky. They streamed up in bright red and blues before erupting like fireworks; the explosion of the rockets echoing throughout the landscape. "Slip, I think I see the rings coming up now."

The rockets expanded out from their point of detonation. Four points joined together by an electrical ring large enough for five fighters to pass through.

"Fox, there are now ten rings out there! Two are in front of you, and one more about negative 50 meters Z from your current position."

"Roger," he replied, launching forward with a quick jet boost. The arwing passed easily through the first ring and a score count appeared on his HUD display reading: one. He pulled back on his stick, angling his ship further skyward before turning his wrist and readjusting into a successful aerial u-turn. Ahead and on radar he saw another fighter zip past the ring he was gunning for. "Dammit," he muttered.

"Nice tricks, Fox," came Bill's voice. "But tricks won't give you any points."

"I'll show you more than tricks, Grey," he challenged as he readjusted his course.

"He's right, Fox," Slippy countered. "Focus on the rings."

"Fine, fine," he surrendered.

"Alright, there's another ring right above the campus: X 50 meters, Y 20 kilometers, and Z, negative 50 meters."

Fox could see the electrical current ahead of him, resting high above the four towers of the school. His boost recharged, he reactivated them and thrust forward while making both the flight adjustments required. He could barely make out the crowd of onlookers standing on the glass bridge as he dove through the hoop. Two, his HUD rang.

"Very nice, Fox," approved Slippy.

"Hey, what's the score right now?"

"Let's see," began Slippy, taking a few moments to finish his sentence. "Bill is in the lead with four rings, Falco with three, you with two. The others only have one."

"Time to get serious," Fox said decisively.

"You mean you weren't," asked Slippy, flabbergasted.

Fox eyed another supply ring in the distance hovering near the cliff face. There was another directly above it; an idea sparking in the vulpine's mind. He steered toward the lower ring first and just as he was about to pass it, his paws pulled back on the control cylinder, his arwing tipping toward the sky at a steep angle. He maintained his hold, feeling the gravity change within his cockpit as the landscape shifted from directly below him to above him. There came two rings from his HUD as he passed through the second ring and completed his loop in the sky. Three and four.

"You catch that, Slip," Fox called out, unable to hide his delight.

"That's great, Fox," came the reply, though the toad seemed distracted.

"What's wrong, Slip?"

"Wha-nothing! Uh, next few rings are out further in the canyons. A good fifty kilometers north from your location."

Fox squinted his eyes. The canyons were known to be difficult to fly through. "Understood."

"Be careful, Fox."

"No promises," he joked. To his left and right, he could see he was joined by his colleagues. Bill more than likely above him, Walt and Reynolds within view to his sides but Falco missing. He glanced at his radar and saw the bird was below him.

"Looks like I'm the _top_ here," chuckled Bill over the radio.

"You're such a pig, Grey," Reynolds rebutted.

"You won't be on top for long," countered Fox.

"Poor Fox doesn't get it," replied Walt.

The vulpine blinked. "Get what?"

"Oh, Fox," sighed Slippy, his voice covered behind sniggers. Fox shook his head as realization sank in.

Falco's fighter below him boosted away from the crowd. "I'm surrounded by immature morons," he fumed. His jet dipped down further and passed through a ring which was concealed in the shadows cast by the canyon walls.

"Hmm, time to get back to work," muttered Bill, also thrusting forward while his two friends veered left and right away from Fox's arwing.

"Current score is you, four, Falco four, Bill, six, the others three each," Slippy said. "There's a set of three rings below you in the canyon by the river bed." He paused before adding a warning, "the area is pretty narrow so you'll need to keep an eye on your wingspan.

"There's an easy fix to that," Fox replied as he descended. The walls between him flew past, gradually getting narrower as the rings came into view. Fox turned lightly on his stick, the arwing following suit til the wingspan spread vertically. He could hear Slippy's approval as he passed through the first ring. The second ring.

Yet, before he made it through the last ring a fighter cut him off, angling dangerously close. "Holy shit," cried out Fox, turning his arwing away from the collision but a wing clipping the canyon wall. Alarms blared in his ears and his HUD lit up in red and orange text. Sparks flew from the wing on his right and a gentle smoke trailed off.

"Pretty clumsy, Fox," mocked Falco, who flew off and away from the scene.

"Son of a bitch," the vulpine growled as he flicked a few control knobs.

"Fox!? Are you alright," asked Slippy, worry in his voice.

"I think so," he replied. "Wing is clipped but the engines are still working fine." Fox tugged on his stick and frowned. "It looks like maneuvering has stiffened. I won't be able to make any more quick turns."

"I'm reading systems are yellow, here," Slippy said lowering his voice. "You can still fly but I can request a repair ring get dispatched to fix the wing. The nanites will have it repaired in about five minutes so you'll have to work with what you have til then."

"Alright, damn. Gotcha."

"Wait," there was bewilderment in the toad's voice this time. "Fox, something is heading your way."

"You mean Bill? Reynolds?"

"No…hold on, I'm asking the others."

Fox relaxed his grip on the controls, scanning the ragged landscape around him. Another fighter flew to the damaged side of his arwing and hovered by him.

"Fox, are you alright," asked Reynolds.

"Yeah I'm fine. Falco pulled a shit move."

"What an asshole." He paused. "Did your analyst tell you something was heading our way also?"

"Yes," Fox answered. "Waiting on confirmation now." He saw the other fighters move into alignment with the two of them, including Falco. "Proud of yourself, Falco?" he growled.

"Just evening the playing field, McCloud," the avian retorted.

Fox didn't get a chance to argue back as three objects came into view in the distance. They were dark black, but he could make out hints of red. He noticed at the peculiarity of their flight pattern, zipping higher and lower in altitude. And just as strangely, blue lights emerged from them, growing brighter and brighter.

"EVASIVE MANEUVERS! NOW," shouted Slippy, his voice ringing on all broadcasts.

"What the hell," started Reynolds. He didn't get a chance to finish his comment as his fighter was bombarded by the blue laser fire, erupting in flame and metal debris that fell listlessly down to the canyon below.

"Reynolds!?" Bill screamed over the radio. "Baxter!?"

"Evasive maneuvers!" Fox echoed. The other fighters turned away and spread apart from him, angling their wings to and fro in an effort to become more difficult to hit. Fox grunted as his arwing stubbornly followed suit. He whispered a curse at Falco.

"Recruits," shouted their instructor's voice. "You are ordered to return to base. We are sending in military pilots to assist. Do not engage the targets but retaliate if you must. Weaponry has been reenabled on your ships but your priority is to retreat!"

"Understood, sir," Fox replied as a loud whistling zipped past his arwing. He was now able to fully see the sleek dark build of the enemy fighter that killed Reynolds. His HUD display danced a red warning and he felt a violent jolt stagger his fighter. "Shit!"

Another enemy fighter flew past him and then u-looped back around, intent of taking him out. Fox's shields read seventy-five percent. He knew he could take a few more hits but it wouldn't be long before they pierce into his hull. The black jet centered onto his sights, preparing to fire. But Fox wasn't going to let him take him down so easily. He flicked up the safety on his control console and fired back; green lasers streamed and hissed out of his cannons and collided with the enemy ship. It bounced and jolted from the impact before veering away defensively with smoking wings.

"I can't shake this guy," panicked Falco. He came into view just below Fox, weaving between rocks on the canyon's edge. Laser fire trailed after him, their blue glow crashing onto the walls while chunks of rocks plummeted down to the river bed.

"Falco, ascend," ordered Fox. "I've got you covered." The avian complied and as he flew higher, so did the black jet and right into Fox's scope. He fired, the ship hobbling from the impacts before backing off and veering away like its partner.

"Thanks," said Falco. He continued his erratic flying pattern toward the base with the rest of them. They engaged their jet boosters each time they recharged in an effort to race past their pursuers. Laser fire continued to fly past them, not hitting their intended targets.

"This is ridiculous," stuttered Walt. "What the hell is going on?"

"Who could they be," demanded Bill, his avatar agitated on-screen.

Fox remained silent, remembering the conversation he had overheard the night before from his father's office. His father and Pigma had left earlier that morning to scout ahead. Should an attack like this have been eminent they would've sent a warning. Unless…

Fox's stomach sank at the horrific prospect. He shook his head to try and get it out of his mind. He needed to focus right now. Get out of the air and to safety. Return to campus and dock.

"Oh, fuck," he heard Falco despair and it didn't take the four of them long to see why.

A tall, blue pillar extended up from the campus toward the sky. Explosions and laser fire erupted here and there as they came in contact with the translucent energy field protecting the building. Outside numerous falcon-class fighters buzzed like small flies through the sky firing at multiple black enemies that swarmed around a large frigate hovering overhead.

The ship was also a black and red color scheme. Its wedge shape angled steeply toward the front where its main cannons remained dormant. Secondary weaponry decorated the sides of the frigate and we're all firing at the falcon class fighters that struggled to pierce its defenses.

"What do we do now," lamented Falco quite uncharacteristically. His fighter wavered anxiously compared to the rest of the remaining students.

"The docking bay is preoccupied with enemy fighters," answered Bill. "And we're still too far off to attempt a landing."

"Who the hell are these guys," Walt growled out. There was another explosion as laser fire met with Walt's wings. "Ah! I'm hit! I'm hit," he cried out as his jet wobbled downward.

"Walt, get it together," Fox cried out. "If you angle right you can glide on down safely."

"I'll try," he shouted back, his fighter doing its best to flatten out from its dive. The others could see it slowly even out, Bill whispering harsh pleas. Yet the craft hit the ground early, sparks of fire and debris scattering out as it skid across the land to a flaming halt.

"Walt?! Walt!?" Bill growled out angrily, the sound of his fist banging onto the console echoing on everyone's earpieces.

"Bill, look," started Falco. "He's alive! Look!"

Below they could see a lone figure crawling out of the battered remains of his fighter. "Guys, I'm alright," he said through gasps. "I'm a bit shaken but I'm ok."

"Goddamn it, Walt. I didn't want to lose you too," said Bill in relief.

"Walt," began Fox. "You're still not going to be safe there. Try to find some cover until it's safe to return to base."

"Understood, Fox," he replied.

Ahead a rocket shot up from the ground and exploded into a violet, electrical ring.

"Fox, it's Slippy," said the toad. "I'm sorry for the silence. The others have been evacuated through the tunnels but I was able to sneak away. I'm staying behind."

"Slip, you need to go with them," protested Fox.

"No way! You're going to need my help." He paused. "I'm sorry it took some time but I got the repair ring up, you should see it ahead of you."

"I do."

"It should be supplied enough to repair everyone's fighters…oh there's only three of you left." Slippy hesitated before asking, "Is Walt…okay?"

"He's fine," Falco answered. "Back to the repair ring?"

"Oh, good," Slippy sighed. "Ok, it'll repair your fighters but also upgrade your weapons to max capacity. Give the nanites about five minutes to prep the upgrades."

"If we can survive five minutes," the avian sighed.

"Let's not despair," Fox barked out. "We can do this. This is what we've been trained to do. We can't let our fear get in the way of protecting the school." He then growled out, "and making these bastards pay for what they did to Reynolds."

"We're just students," protested Falco. "We're not even full fledged soldiers yet!"

"What's wrong, Falco," seethed Fox. "You've done your best to make sure I look bad at everything I've done in this school. Be it piloting, weaponry, hand to hand combat, you have always made sure you got all the attention. Where is that confidence now?" There was nothing but silence on the radio. "We may be students, but we're soldiers now, like it or not. We can either fight back or die cowards!"

"I'm no coward," the avian yelled back. "You asshole, Fox. I'll show you just how much better I am and down more fighters than you can!"

"Good, Falco," Fox smiled. "Show me just how much you can do when it matters."

"Don't leave me out of this too," snarled Bill. "Baxter was my buddy. I'll take down all three of these fuckers for his sake."

"Then we're all agreed. Let's do this. Show these guys just what the top of the upper class can do even if we have to fight with our claws and feathers."

Together, the three fighters blasted through the repair ring despite still being tailed by their pursuers. Blaster fire continued to chase after them as their ships wobbled, rolled and dodged away from the shots. Fox called again for evasive maneuvers and the other two ships complied by veering away from him. The resulting flight change forced their enemies to split up one-on-one to each target. Behind him, a rain of fire continued as the vulpine did his best to read his radar and weave between shots. His paw jolted left and right on his stick, the arwing understanding the command and began to roll. Energy erupted from the wings of his ship as enemy fire was deflected away and back at the black jet they originated from. The arwing shuddered as a flaming mass soared past him and descended to the earth below. One down.

He noticed that the controls began to smoothen out. The smoke that came from his wings had vanished now that the nanites had repaired them. Ahead, he witnessed as Falco was chased down by the second enemy fighter. His ship leaned left and right in agitation as his pursuer moved closer. Bill had managed to swerve behind his target and was firing him down. The green blasts made contact on the ship while it tried to evade. But Bill wasn't going to lend him that opportunity. He pursued the enemy jet, a barrage of laser fire raining down until the ship burst into flames and exploded in flight.

Falco grunted over the radio and his ship angled upward in an aerial u-turn, a shining orb left behind where he once was. Before the final black jet realized what it was, the energy erupted in an electro-magnetic blast. The concussive force ripped apart the craft's wings and it nose-dived into an explosive display of fire and smoke.

"Great job, everyone," said Fox, his voice still stern. "Slippy, how are things on campus?"

"Shields are at 95% and holding," replied the toad's voice. "Evacuation procedures are still underway."

"What should we do next," asked Bill.

"I'm being told to stand down," Slippy muttered. "I got caught sneaking into an office. But I think I can be more assistance to you guys than they would."

"You've been a great help so far," replied Fox.

"Thanks. You all should be within radio distance from the other fighters soon. They'll give you orders to retreat."

"We can't do that, now," Fox said defiantly.

"What?! We're almost to safety, man," Falco whined. "Let the real soldiers fight."

"We are soldiers," the vulpine barked. "I know this is supposed to be an exhibition but this crisis has changed things. We need to put matters in perspective. What good are we inside than out here?"

"We're no good," replied Bill.

"We'd be alive," said Falco.

"Yes, we'd be alive," started Fox. "But like Bill said, we'd be no good. We'd be no good to our classmates and the civilians in there. Out here, we can make a difference. We can do something! We can help!"

"Whatever," muttered the avian. Then he added, "there's no way in hell I'd let you out do me, Fox."

"That's right," smiled Fox. "We can do it. Slippy will be our extra eyes from inside."

"That I will," the toad replied eagerly.

A fourth fighter came into view on Fox's peripherals. It's silver and blue shape familiar to him. "Spoken like a true leader," came a new voice over their radios.

"Father!"

"I'm sorry I'm late, kiddo," James apologized. "I got held up by some baddies but managed to slip away. It looks like you guys got caught up in a big mess. I'll radio in what I know to base while I fly with you guys."

"Is this who we think it is," asked Fox. "From last night?"

"Don't worry about that right now," answered James. "First, let's gun down these bastards away from our home."

"Hell, yeah," Falco started. "I feel our chances just went up."

"We've got this," Bill chimed in.

Fox relaxed from within his cockpit. "Alright, gang. Let's show them what we're made of," he commanded as they approached the academy.

~ :: :: ~

The sounds of explosions rang clear within the barriers. Sparks grew, flashed and soon faded on each impact with the energy walls that extended from the ground and skyward around the facility. Fighters whizzed around the air in a dangerous dance of life and death while the blue and green of laser fire shot through the horizon. Four figures crouched low on the rooftop of the military compound, one busy tinkering with a package laid out on the ground.

"The recruits are coming back," said a female voice, her face concealed behind a feline-shaped helmet. She pointed out in the distance at the four approaching fighters.

"What of it," replied another with a gruff voice. "They'll just get killed in the fight."

"If they made it this far they must have some talent to them," she mused.

"The 'Queen' is an optimist," muttered the figure by the package, his black tail flickering left and right.

"Always, Joker," she replied.

"These code names are ridiculous," hissed their final companion.

"But necessary," answered the gruff one.

"Whatever, King."

"Hush, Ace," Queen admonished. We don't have too much time. How fares the bomb?"

"It's ready," Joker replied. "That leaves the industrial compound, living quarters and academy."

"Leave the living quarters to me," said Ace. "I can stealth past anyone who comes in my way."

"I'll take the industrial compound," Joker added.

"I'll manage with the academy," King said with a low growl.

"Very well," began Queen. "We must make sure the compound is destroyed before either 'Venom' or Corneria can claim it." She hesitated before continuing. "I'm going to assist with the evacuation."

"Queen has too much of a heart," Joker muttered in protest. "Mayhap that's why she's also as beautiful and elegant as a rose."

"No time for poetic flirting," King snapped, before turning to Queen. "Be safe out there."

"Of course," she replied and turned away from her companions. "Proceed with the mission."

"Understood," they all replied and set off in different directions. Ace's figure vanished and camouflaged with his surroundings while King and Joker ran ahead and down the stairs from their location. Queen looked back up at the frigate that littered the Papetoon sky. Her blue eyes glared defiantly through her helmet before she set off toward the civilians.


	4. Chapter 03 - The Propaganda Video

**[Star Fox: Universe R(aid)]**

 **Bryyo**

 _Star Fox and all characters from the Nintendo universe are copyright their respected owners_

* * *

 **Chapter Three – The Propaganda Video**

* * *

Sparks flickered in an irregular pattern and a grey smoke coughed out in light bursts from the Arwing piloted by James McCloud. Laser burns littered the rear wings and the added air resistance caused the craft to shake. Fox knew wherever his father had been was met with violence.

"This is Commander James McCloud," the vulpine began. "I'm here with the remaining recruits and approaching base. Lieutenant Commander Faust, do you copy?"

There was a brief moment of silence before an image appeared on each pilot's HUD screen. "Commander, thank heavens," said a relieved badger. "We were all worried you were killed when no word came from you or Pigma about the attack."

"They tried," replied James, dryly. "Have you heard word from Pigma? He was chased down by fighters just a few hours after we left the planet."

"No, we have not," Faulkner frowned.

"Then he's likely dead," surmised James. "Damn it. Alright, give me a status report."

The image changed to a female Squirrel who had bags under her eyes. "Commander, this is Officer Jenkins. So far we've lost thirteen fighters, including two from the recruits. Enemy losses are about the same. That frigate parked to our southeast has been bombarding both our fighters and shields for the past two hours."

"I see."

"Shields are currently at 84% strength but we won't be able to hold off for too much longer. It's also important to note that the enemy frig hasn't yet fired its main cannon so our tech team isn't sure how well our shields can hold against it."

"Understood. I'll be entering the fray in a few moments."

The screen changed back to Faust. "Commander, any idea who these bastards are?"

"I do," growled James. "They're a hybrid militant group made up of various races who have defected from Corneria and joined under the Venom Empire. If reports are accurate, they're ruled under the old General of R and D."

"Impossible," gasped the Lt. Commander.

"Yes, but nothing we can deal with at the moment. I'm going to clear these bastards out of the sky, first."

"Understood, sir. We'll have the recruits return to dock and evacuate with the others."

"That won't be necessary, sir," interrupted Fox, now appearing on screen. "Out here, we're soldiers too. We'll help with the fight." He was met with agreement from Bill though Falco remained silent.

"Model recruits, aren't they," chuckled James.

"Indeed," agreed Faust. "Alright then. I'm sure the boys will be glad to have you out there with them. Recruits, you can tell your toad friend he can stop hiding. We have enough trouble fighting off enemy hackers; we don't need his firewall blocking us too."

"I heard that, and understood," Slippy's face grinned on screen before he added a nervous, "sir!"

"Alright boys," commanded James, "let's just see what we're getting into."

The recruits changed their flight into a v-pattern, allowing James to take the lead.

Despite how long the skirmish with their attackers had taken, the environment seemed hardly touched, minus the charred ruins of fallen fighter jets that were scattered here and there. Laser fire sang through the sky from both the enemy frigate and fighters only to be joined by screeches and whistles from academy pilots and turrets. Radio static began to pick up as the party neared the dog fight. A nearby black jet adjusted his course to intercept them but James fired a single shot and sent it down in a cloud of smoke.

"Commander," stressed out a new voice. "Is that you?"

"It is," confirmed James, the men cheering over the radio. "Fill me in, fella's. What's going on here?"

Another voice answered. "Enemy fighters have been targeting the shields external generators. We've managed to keep them off but until we destroy them all or they get reinforcements, we're at a stalemate."

"Then let's take care of the them now and then deal with the frig next," ordered James. "Units one and two: defend the western generator. Three and four: the south. Recruits and unit five: with me to the east."

"Sir," everyone shouted, readjusting their flight; fighters performed aerial u-turns and veered in different directions to take on their new assignments. Fox followed along with his father, nervous about the older vulpine's damaged ship but very aware that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. He shifted his focus onto the black swarm attacking the eastern generator. One enemy veered out of a dive and into his scope. Green shots blasted from his arwing, the enemy crashing onto land.

"Great shooting, McCloud junior," said an ally.

"Excellent," replied another. "Now it's us: nine, them: fourteen."

"Keep focused, everyone," barked James. Then more lightheartedly, "Great! One down by me too."

Fox noticed just how much the tension relaxed with his father around. He had anticipated everyone to be barely holding it together with the invasion but, instead, found that they were better collected and in control of their feelings. Perhaps it was only he who was feeling that way, he considered. Regardless, having his father with him gave him confidence. Suddenly, his fighter jolted violently and his shields decreased to 80% from an enemy behind him. Once again he jerked his stick left to the right, allowing the arwing to roll and deflect the shots away harmlessly.

"You just gonna keep spinning or shoot, Fox," teased Falco. His fighter flew overhead, lasers blasting from his gun, followed by an explosion once Falco successfully took out Fox's pursuer. "This is all too easy!"

"Is our game still on," smirked Bill. "That would mean I've downed more than you girls."

"You ain't beating anybody today, Bill," contested Falco.

"He's right," agreed Fox. The vulpine eyed another fighter and swiftly gunned him down. "But I'm going to take down more than all of you!"

"We shall see about that, Fox," whooped Falco as he took down another enemy.

Their playful mood was contagious and soon the other fighters joined in, celebrating their own kills over radio. The enemy jets changed from offensive firing to evasive tactics as they realized their team was dwindling. Put on the defensive, they began to shift away to join their allies at the other generators.

"West and south team: report your status," asked James.

"We're holding up well," they all heard. "We've lost two on our side, but enemy fighters are beginning to retreat."

"Alright men. East and South team: continue with the defense. Unit five and recruits: with me. We're gonna deal with the frigate."

All nine fighters adjusted course, following behind James to the southeast. The larger craft still hovered in position not making any major moves. The turrets that lined both port and starboard sides targeting the academy shield redirected to the group of pilots approaching it. Fighter jets were able to swiftly weave between the shots while returning fire.

"Control, do we have any information on our target," asked James.

"Commander, this is Slippy," began the toad, his display reappearing on the HUD. There was a pause while he spoke with someone off-screen. "Yes, okay. Commander, the enemy ship is of unknown origin to us, but it matches visual of a Midgard Longinus."

"An Imperial ship," muttered James.

"That's correct. If this holds true, the frigate hasn't fired its primary weapon because it is gathering energy."

The conversation shifted to Officer Jenkins. "Commander, you probably already know, but if that ship fires at us we don't know how well our shields will hold. Our intelligence states that a longinus-class ship can pierce through shielding and armor."

"Understood." The Commander closed communication and switched his sights onto the enemy frigate. "Alright, squad," he ordered, "control isn't sure about this frig so we'll have to fight cautiously. Take out those turrets. Let's get this thing defenseless."

"Alright," affirmed Fox with the other soldiers. They all encircled the frigate, each firing at their new marks; their fighters zooming too fast for the frigate's turrets to follow allowing them an easy assault.

"Enemy shield analyzed," Slippy called as a new display appeared on their HUD. They had currently removed 43% of the shields. "Heads up, guys! Enemy fighters are returning from the generators to assist the frigate."

"Thanks Slippy," said James. "Unit five: get rid of them. Recruits: continue assault with me."

"Somethings happening," exclaimed Falco. "The ship's main gun!"

A glow started to shine at the ships primary cannon. Bubbles of light and electricity gathered and concentrated into a brightening ball while air around the weapon started to distort and become a blinding flash.

"The cannon," shouted Slippy. "It's the weak point! If you destroy it, it'll reverse the process and backfire. It'll destroy the ship!"

"You all heard the man! Target that cannon," ordered James.

Fox charged ahead, the crosshairs of his lasers centered onto the cannon. He pulled the trigger, a shower of laser fire launching forward and joining in with his comrades. The flashing ball of energy flickered slightly but showed no change. The fighter jets concentrated more energy into their weapons, continuing the barrage.

Suddenly, a shockwave blasted out from the glowing mass and it dimmed momentarily before reemerging as a fiery, red blob. The face of the ship exploded as the light traveled its way toward the rear of the frigate. Pilots shifted their course to avoid the collapsing ship as it groaned and lazily lurched forward. Fox felt his stomach sink as he realized where it was falling and anxious voices began shouting on the radio.

"Holy shit-"

"It's falling toward the school-"

"Focus all energy to shields-"

"Can the shields hold-"

Slowly the frigate descended downward, a mass of debris and fire. As it came into contact with the academy shields, there came a bright flash and the translucent wall became a solid and glaring pillar of light. Bolts of lightning streaked outward while the shield held firm against the crumbling ship. The frigate twisted and turned, the front folding over itself. Pilots scrambled to get some distance from the impending explosion as the crashes became louder and louder.

Finally, in a climactic display of electricity and fire, the frigate finished its doomed descent and settled onto the earth below. An eerie quiet filled the academy only disturbed by the buzzing of fighters zipping through the sky. And within that moment, the academy shield failed and vanished.

"Somethings coming up on radar," alerted Slippy.

Overhead, Fox saw multiple ships descending from the sky. He gasped as he counted ten ships with more incoming.

"We're counting twenty five carrier ships descending from the upper atmosphere," shrieked Jenkins.

"Satellite signals have located three enemy battleships orbiting the planet," Slippy added. "Where did they come form?"

"We can't win like this," Fox surrendered. "Father, what do we do?"

James hesitated. He glanced at all the fighters who were with him in the air before turning to his son's ship. "We need to evacuate," he relented. "Those carrier ships will drop off enemy troopers. Our priority now should be defending the rest of the civilians and students before they get taken hostage or worse."

"So we're giving up," asked Falco.

"Retreating isn't necessarily giving up, Falco. You boys have done well up here in the air but it's time to go. I need you three to get down and leave. Make your way to the shuttles with the others. Get back to Corneria. Slippy, you too."

Fox gritted his teeth. "I don't like this. This isn't fair."

"Fights are not always fair, kiddo. All unites: retreat!"

"I beg your pardon, Commander," said the image of female collie. "This is squad one captain. We'll stay up here and do what we can to delay the carrier ships. You'll need the extra time and support."

"Thank you."

"Just land and we'll cover you. Help the kids."

"Will do. And thanks again, all of you." James was met with salutes by various images on his HUD. "Alright, recruits, let's dock."

Fox slammed his fist onto the controls. He readjusted his course, following the still glowing lights of the landing strip to the west and descended downward. The tires screeched on contact with the asphalt and the sunlight vanished when his ship slowed to a halt inside the tunneled docking bay. He hopped off his arwing, crouching down as he hit the floor. Bill and Falco followed close behind, joining up with him as his father's craft finished landing.

"Boys," he said when he made his way to the trio. "I know you may want to keep fighting, but I need you to help the others evacuate."

"We understand, sir," said Falco.

"I guess," Fox muttered. "Will you be coming with us?"

James hesitated before answering. "No. Not yet, anyway." He saw his son's ears flatten. "I'll be joining you shortly. Don't worry. There is something your dad needs to do in the control room first." He pushed ahead down toward the hall, the others following closely.

"Is this enemy really who you and the others were talking about last night," asked Fox, repeating his earlier question.

"Yes," his father replied. "Sadly, Venom has militarized and made the first strike."

"Venom," Falco echoed incredulously. "How can an inhospitable planet create such a reckoning force?"

"They've been gathering troops for around five years now," answered James. "And within the past year, the planet has seen an increased in structural development. Cities rose up from nothing."

"Headmaster Peppy should've let you raise the alert," Fox said with disapproval. "We might have been better prepared. We might not have had any losses."

"Do not blame Peppy, son," James shot back. "He was right to want more assurances. Unfortunately, it had to be done in this way." The older vulpine stopped at a fork in the hall. He gave his son a good look that made Fox uncomfortable. "I'm going to split from you all here."

"Why?"

"There's something I must do at the control center," he repeated. "I'm sure Faust has sent word to Corneria, but there's a message I need to send out through encrypted channels before things get worse."

"Can't you do that on the shuttle with us?"

James smiled. "You know better than that. I'll have to do it here. It won't take long." He gave all three of the recruits a nod. "Falco," he said, directing his gaze on the avian. "I know you have given my son a hard time but I must ask that you take care of my son. Make sure he gets to the shuttles. No matter what."

Falco's eyes widened as he stuttered out a, "Yes, sir!"

"Good. Now you three head on off. If you see any civilians take them with you." They mumbled in agreement while the older vulpine looked nervously toward the stairs at the end of the further hallway. "Alright, boys. I'll see you on the other side."

"Father," started Fox, his ears flattening.

"It'll be alright, Fox. Trust your instincts. And be good." With that, he turned and ran away from them, disappearing as he leaped up the stairwell.

"C'mon, Fox. He wants us to go," insisted Falco, giving the vulpine a tug. Their gazes met briefly before Fox nodded. Taking the opposite route of his father, the three recruits ran ahead. Muffled sounds of gunfire echoed as they ran through the empty corridors. Unlike the top floor, where the buildings were connected by the glass bridge, the bottom floor was merely a continuation of the living quarter's mall; it also had a glass ceiling but stood only about two floors high. Usually a crowded shopping district, the mall was now a ghost town, their footsteps echoing loud down the sunlit halls and shops. A few windows were shattered and battered mannequins and electronics gave evidence of looting.

There was a crash of glass behind them and the thud of boots; the boys spun around from their run, startled. Four masked soldiers appeared in red and black motif: a tall canine, a pig, and two lizard-men holding assault rifles. As soon as they caught sight of the recruits they immediately opened fire.

"Holy shit," cried out Bill as they flipped over a nearby bench for cover.

"How the hell are we gonna get out of this one," said Falco.

Fox peered over when there was a brief pause in laser fire. He could see the Venomian soldiers reloading and making their way toward them. "We need to move," he said decisively. "They're getting closer to us." His eyes scanned their surroundings. They were crammed between several shops and still had some ways to go before making it to the living quarters. Inside one of the clothing shops he located an emergency exit. "This way, now!"

Falco and Bill bolted behind Fox, weaving in between and knocking over rows of clothing hanging on racks. Shouts followed them as they scrambled out the emergency exit, blaster fire burning at the thick doors. Bill quickly scampered behind the nearby trash bin and pushed it in front of the door with a grunt, barring out the intruders.

"Well, I knew you had those muscles for something," laughed a voice.

"Walt! You're alright," cried out Bill seeing the husky approach. He shoved Falco aside, lifting up the husky in a bear hug. "I was worried, man."

"Oh, I'm so loved," he coughed out from Bill's strong grasp. The white and black of his fur was soaked in sweat and red with dried blood. He had a limp on his left leg, but he didn't look too bad otherwise. "I saw you guys land from a distance," he started once Bill let him down. "But then those drop ships kept coming. They had the dock surrounded in moments so I tried to find a way inside. Ended up getting lost till I ran into you guys."

"Glad you're alright," said Fox.

"Me too," admitted Falco. "After Reynolds…"

The trash bin jolted violently as the door it concealed slammed onto it. Incoherent shouts came through the crack as the screech of laser fire met with metal.

"We need to run," Falco concluded, all of them sprinting forward.

"Where do we go? I've not been outside like this before," gasped out Bill.

"I think we're still in the commercial district," panted Fox. "Any of these doors may do, but let's wait til we're closer to the residential tower." He noticed that the soldiers hadn't made any more effort in chasing them from behind and hoped to himself they didn't wise up and plan to cut them off. An explosion above them surprised the group for a moment but they kept running until they were at the last door.

The first was locked but Falco managed to pull open another door nearby. Quietly, the group scampered inside and into an empty electronics store. Fox took the lead, crouching at the entrance before peeking over the corner. The soldiers weren't there. He waved his comrades on, the four of them crouching low and through the foyer of the residential district. Somewhere behind them they heard more glass shattering followed by screams and blaster fire. As they turned the corner, Fox bumped into a person and fell back on the floor. Falco, Bill and Walt huddled in front of him, taking on a defensive position.

"What's this," asked a female voice. She was in full uniform, red and silver. Her face was hidden behind a helmet with two pointed ears giving away her feline form. "Oh, more survivors?"

"Who are you," barked out Fox.

"The recruits," she mused while taking out her blaster. The boys winced as the gun fired. A pained howl behind them made them open their eyes to see a downed enemy soldier. "Cornerian Special Forces: undercover. You don't need to know my name," she answered. "You lot, run off ahead, it should be clear. I'm looking for more civilians before this place blows up in smoke."

"Blows up," asked Falco. "There's a bomb?"

"Yes," she hesitated. "Hurry along, I don't know how much time is left."

There was more blaster fire coming from behind them, prompting the boys to get going. They ran past the suspicious feline firing her blaster as she covered their retreat. At closer glance, Fox noticed that she didn't have tail, but quickly forgot about it when they turned to the next corner. Soldiers in academy uniforms hunkered down in the next hall; a makeshift barricade of chairs and overturned tables was used for cover. They waved the boys closer and directed them further into the evacuation tunnels. A soldier stopped them at the entrance where the residential walls gave way to the rocky cave surface.

"You," said a soldier. "You're the Commander's kid, right?"

"I am," answered Fox.

"Good," he placed a paw over his headset and muttered a few words of confirmation. "Alright, the Commander is glad you made it. He's been radio'ing me for the past ten minutes for your arrival."

"My dad's okay," asked Fox, his ears perking up.

"He's in the control room right now with the other officers."

"May I speak with him?"

"Not right now. But he gave strict orders to get you onto a shuttle, pronto."

"Can you ask him how long he'll be? What about the bomb?"

"A bomb?" The guard seemed confused.

"A Special Forces woman we met said the place is about to go up in smoke," Fox repeated, the others mumbling in agreement.

"As far as we know there is no bomb," the guard said, though he seemed more nervous now. "We'll let the higher ups know. For now, just get into the damn shuttles. No more lollygagging'."

They didn't need to be told again and the boys chose a quick walking pace this time around over their panicked running from before. Further ahead, they caught up with the tail end of the evacuee line. The droning of nervous chatter and hushed voices echoed under the stalactites. All four of them kept silent for the remainder of their walk, though, Walt eventually had to wrap an arm around Bill when his leg injury started to get irritated. Falco kept close to the vulpine, the two of them occasionally giving each other understanding glances as they kept moving. After about ten more minutes they came through a large, opened blast door and the beginning of the emergency shuttle pods. The whispers grew into louder, anxious voices as people were shuffled into specific shuttle pods.

"Hey guys," cried out an excited Slippy a few shuttles ahead of them, standing next to a female, vulpine soldier.

"Slippy," said Fox, embracing his friend. "Hell, it's good to see you. What are you doing?"

"He insisted on waiting for you," the soldier rolled her eyes. "I've got orders to reserve this shuttle pod for you and your friends."

"Special treatment, eh Foxy," joked Bill, bumping a fist onto the vulpine's shoulder.

"Thank you, God almighty," sighed Falco, taking the opportunity to be the first to enter the shuttle.

Slippy laughed. "Looks like he doesn't mind your 'special treatment' now, right Fox?"

Fox smiled and nodded, finally feeling exhausted. "Where will the shuttles take us?"

"They'll launch everyone out into open space where a Cornerian cruiser will pick you up," said the female fox. "Run along now. There are more people to help."

The shuttles were egg shaped on the outside with four, large thruster cannons at their base. Each was painted the usual Cornerian silver and green and had distress lights arranged at the top. Inside, Falco was already reclined in the furthest seat. Other than the door, the outer edge of the shuttle was encircled by cushioned chairs and a holo-display made the centerpiece of the room. Fox took the seat one away from Falco, leaning back onto the headrest and sighed with relief.

"Fox," said Falco. "I just wanted to say pretty good flying out there."

His eyes bugged out before he answered. "Thanks, Falco. You too. Really good stuff you've got out there."

Slippy entered then, taking a seat opposite of Fox. Bill helped Walt onto a seat before taking his place next to him; the husky leaning his head onto his shoulders.

"Damn, Bill. Your shoulders aren't comfortable at all. Fucking rocks," he complained.

"You're free to move," he teased, but the husky didn't.

"I've been wondering," said Falco, "are you two an item or something?"

"Of course," said Walt, rolling his eyes while Bill just smiled back at the avian.

"I mean, it's cool if you guys are," flushed Falco. "You guys have just always seemed so close."

"We're going to be setting off soon," said Slippy, breaking the awkward silence that followed.

A few moments later they felt the engines start with a low rumble. Over the intercom voiced one of the soldiers telling them their shuttle will depart in five minutes. Normally they would've cheered out loud but opted to merely smile at one another. Fox took deep relaxed breaths in the silence while Falco closed his eyes in meditation. Slippy fiddled with a tablet computer he had managed to sneak inside his coat, making a few grunts here and there while looking over some data. Walt nuzzled closer to Bill but used a free hand to rub his bloodied head while the pit-bull frowned up at the ceiling, still trying to make sense of the day's events.

"We all almost made it," Bill muttered shakily.

"Yeah," said Walt, matching his tone.

Just as their shuttle shuddered from take-off, the center holo-screen illuminated the entire room, an emblem of two swords below a bearded ape taking center screen.

"The fuck is this," asked Falco.

"I don't recognize that insignia," said Slippy.

The screen flickered and was replaced by a robed creature whose appearance looked like a Jackal. Fox recalled the conversation he overheard again, remembering Peppy wondering about a Lylat-like creature. He could see where the resemblance came from but also the stark differences in its tall, skinny build. The eyes were a dark and piercing black that gave him chills to look into.

"Greetings, low-lifes of the Papetoon military base," he began. "By now I'm sure you have fled the compound and are leaving the planet. But do not worry, we'll allow you to leave safely, but only as messengers to our cause. My name is Mahat, a member of a religious tribe known as the Occult, under employ of Doctor Andross Oikonny, Supreme Ruler of Venom."

"I've heard that name before," muttered Fox. "Last night, my father, Headmaster Peppy and their friend, Pigma, discussed something about a general defecting over to Midgard."

"This doesn't sound like he moved to the Midgard Empire," rebutted Slippy. "More like he made his own."

"It does," agreed Fox.

"So this is, what, some sort of propaganda video," ridiculed Falco. "Give me a break. Can we turn this shit off?"

Slippy pressed a few buttons on the console and then shook his head. "No. It's like they're force-broadcasting it from somewhere nearby." The toad tried to mess with the broadcast a bit more before giving up and sitting back down.

"For too long has Corneria been deadlocked in political misgivings and a parliament who puts its own interests over the needs of the many. While outskirt colonies fell under the grasp of the Midgard Empire, Corneria did nothing and allowed them to all get swallowed up within its control," droned the jackal. "Their own head of research and development, Andross, insisted that parliament do something about it. He insisted that help be sent and work be done to reestablish Venom as a frontier haven for refugees. Instead, parliament and the prime minister shunned him and accused him of war-mongering."

"So when the General reached out to Midgard for peace, they heard his cry. They listened and granted mercy. When news of this reached the Prime Minister, Andross was relieved from the military and charged with treason. Treason for trying to help his own people. Does that sound right to you, citizens of Corneria? Is it wrong for a man to want to protect and save as many civilians instead of pushing for war?"

"I don't understand," said Bill. "They're the ones who attacked us first. What the hell?"

"It's a propaganda video," Falco said flatly. "It doesn't have to make sense. Only paint us as bad guys."

"But hear us, Corneria," threatened Mahat. "Enough of your people are disgusted with you. Enough of them want change. Enough of them want a voice. And now, here on Venom, Andross has given them a home. A place where their needs are listened to. A place they know is worth fighting for. And to show you just how seriously we'll fight for this new home, we want you to spread word about the events that have happened here on Papetoon. And those that you are about to see."

The screen changed from the robed jackal to a more familiar one. Red and black soldiers stood in front of several computer terminals and holo-screens. Many of the them were either smoking or displaying static screens while others were riddled with laser burns. Behind them was a bright and sunny window in the familiar hues of twilight.

"That's the control room," yelped Slippy.

"Hello there, everyone," said a cheery voice as the camera fixated onto a fat but well armored character. He pulled out his helmet and revealed…

"That's Pigma," Fox blurted out in disbelief.

"This is your friendly neighborhood defector, Pigma," he chortled. "But that's now General Pigma of the Andross Empire Fleet."

"Disgusting," hissed Falco.

"I want you guys to look over here, so-so," said the pig, waving the camera to the opposite end of the room. As the view turned, they saw a pile of dead soldiers with fresh laser burns and bloodstains.

"Those are the control center analyst," Slippy screamed in horror. "They killed them all!"

"As you can see," continued Pigma, "we want you morons in Corneria to know just how serious we are about this war. We are an independent Venom! Ain't nobody got time for Corneria anymore!"

"But to help you all sink this in, we've got some special guests for you down this way." The camera shifted over to a terrified squirrel. Fox recognized her as Officer Jenkins from earlier. "Here we have the beautiful and sassy Miranda Jenkins," squealed Pigma.

"Why are you doing this," she cried out, tears in her eyes.

"Why," shouted out Pigma, "because you wouldn't go on a date with me last month when I asked! That's why!"

"You're doing this because I turned you down!?" The look on her face was a mix of horror and disgust. "You fat ass, stupid son of a-"

"BANG," screamed out Pigma, the squirrel shrieking and wincing as he laughed. "That was great, wasn't it? But this time it's for real." Though the pig was off screen, the front of his blaster came into view. The resulting flash caused the screen to stutter with static briefly while the boys watched a bloody cloud escape from Jenkins head, her eyes rolling back.

"Oh my God," whispered Bill, Walt whimpering beside him.

"Our next guest," began Pigma as the camera moved over to an old badger. "Our very own Lt. Commander Faust!"

"You won't get away with this, Pigma," he barked.

"But I am," mused Pigma as another shot fired through the Lt. Commander's head. "Never liked him. Too stiff," joked Pigma before smiling ear to ear. "And our last guest here, my dear old friend."

Fox's jaw dropped and his eyes widened as the camera shifted to his father. The older vulpine looked worse compared to the first two. His right eye was bloody and his left ear was crooked. Fox could feel his stomach making knots, his eyes unable to look away from the holo-screen.

"Commander James McCloud," said Pigma. "My leader and friend. Oh, how I loathed you," he seethed. "Always giving orders and disregarding Pigma! Pigma, do this! Pigma, do that! Pigma, stop eating all the burgers! Pigma! Pigma! Well, who's in charge now, huh?!"

"You'll never be in charge, you shit piece of bacon," James panted out.

"Oh, he's full of insults now, folks," Pigma laughed out hysterically. "But you see, Jamie, I can call you Jamie now, haha! You could've avoided all of this. All you had to do is accept the offer Andross gave to you and you'd be safe. Free to frolic in outer space. Of course, you'd be made to shoot down your old friends here and there. But you wouldn't be here and about to die."

"I would never turn my back on my allies," James spat out. "I would never forsake them to you."

"But in the end, you forsook yourself to me!" Pigma moved beside James and in view of the camera. The pig leaned over and placed the blaster to the vulpine's forehead. Growling out into his ear, "Well, Jamie boy. This is the end of the road for you. Any last words?"

Fox started to hyperventilate. He shouted. Screamed. Kicked and swiped at the projection with no effect. Falco got up and tried to restrain the vulpine and Slippy did his best to calm him down but his words fell on deaf ears.

"Fox," he heard his father say through the screen. "I love-"

They all stared in horror and disbelief as a spray of blood shot out from the side of James's temple. The older vulpine limped lifelessly out of view of the camera in a background of snorting laughter. Fox knelt down on the floor, his fist trembling and his breathing heavy. Shutting his eyes, he let out a blood curdling scream that was drowned out by the empty vacuum of space.


	5. Chapter 04 - Renewed Vigor

**[Star Fox: Universe R(aid)]**

 **Bryyo**

 _Star Fox and all characters within the Nintendo universe are copyright their respected owners_

* * *

 **Chapter 04 – Renewed Vigor**

* * *

 _Lylat  
Corneria Territory  
Planet: Corneria  
McCloud Residence_

Morning sunlight poured its way through the blinds, leaving parallel patterns on the carpet floor while dust flittered through the air. Through squinted eyes, a tired vulpine watched as a single speck drifted in mid-flight downward with not a care in the world. The bed creaked as his bedfellow did her best to nonchalantly get up, her movements shifting the sheets off him and exposing his naked chest. He turned slowly to see the canine replacing her bra-strap before hastily gathering her phone from the nightstand littered with empty beer bottles.

"Leaving so soon," Fox yawned.

"I've gotta go back to work," she replied, pulling up her skirt. She grabbed her coat on the chair by the door and zipped it up. "Same thing, right? Charge the card?"

Fox frowned. "Yes. When will you be free again?"

She smirked and sat next to him, placing a paw on his thigh; the proximity to his hip sending him shivers. "Wouldn't you like to know," she giggled and kissed him on the lips briefly. "See you later, handsome."

He rested back, folding his arms under his head and listened to the click of the front door opening and later closing. _Bitch forgot to lock the door, again,_ he thought, but didn't put any effort into getting up. On the nightstand nearest him were three empty bottles and one half full; he reached for it and took a swig of the bitter liquid, gasping as if refreshed. The bottle empty, he threw it across the room and let it crash at the closet door, the glass scattering while he groaned and stared up at the ceiling.

It had nearly been a year since his father's death and since then Fox hadn't made much of himself. After the video feed had finished, he had let himself slump on the floor and ignored the pitiful looks the others were directing at him. Hours later there was a call on the holo-vid from the rescue teams and they were all boarded onto a Cornerian cruiser. They were escorted into a cafeteria and given food to eat but not one of them was in the mood for speaking. Several classmates came up to Fox to offer their condolences while he stared blankly at a full bowl of soup in front of him.

Everyone was stuffed into crowded living quarters after that. Falco and Slippy would try and cheer up the vulpine but eventually scattered off on their own during the flight home. Walt would drop by and frown at him while Bill tried to get him to laugh using lewd gestures but, finding no success, they also began to drift apart. Fox couldn't recall if he even got up during that time, choosing to sit at the corner of that room lost in his own thoughts

It was raining in Corneria when they had arrived a week later. The cold wind and water stung at his face as he descended down those stairs to see Headmaster General Peppy waiting for him holding a red umbrella. He had slowly walked up to him and accepted the hare's embrace as he bawled on his shoulders for the first time since their rescue.

"I'm so sorry, Fox," he muttered into his ear. "I'm so very sorry."

He followed the older man to his car with no motivation to keep up any conversation Peppy tried to engage in. His eyes watched the tall and busy buildings from the metropolis slide by through the passenger window. With some envy he would see happy families huddled close under their umbrellas; mothers clinging on to bags from hours of shopping and fathers holding their children up above their heads in a fashion similar to how his had done many years ago.

"Your father had left you quite a bit in the inheritance," Peppy was saying. "The loft is now under your name and your bank account has been activated." He handed the vulpine a cash card to the First Cornerian Bank. "I already left all your bank info on the counter top at your home."

The loft was near one of the busiest commercial districts in the Corneria City, located at the top floor of an upper-middle class residential skyscraper. Peppy followed him up to the room after parking in the garage. It was incredibly clean and smelled more sterile than he had remembered. Gray amber walls lightly decorated with some random wall paintings his father had thought were quite artsy surrounded him. A sectional sat in the middle of the family room in front of a large entertainment center and flat-screen television he used to labor at when he was a child playing games online.

But the place was too clean, minus the stack of papers Peppy had left on top of the counter top. It made Fox feel uneasy.

"I had someone from the office stock up your fridge," said Peppy, joining him into the family room. He waited for Fox to nod before adding, "I also gave you a little something. It may help the first few nights."

"Something?" He finally asked.

"In the fridge. You'll know. If you need anything, just give me a call. Oh, and here," he took out a cell phone from his pocket. "This is for you. I've already put my number in it."

Fox took the phone and stared at the bright screen; the Cornerian fleet logo set as the background. "Thanks."

"I have to be going now, but if you need anything-"

"I'll call, right. Like you said."

As soon as he left, Fox dropped what little belongings he had brought with him onto the floor and examined the kitchen, his hunger finally returning. The fridge was more than stocked, it was stuffed with little to no moving space for anything save one large bottle of Lylat's best lager. Since he had never had alcohol on his own before, he took the beer, ignoring the note attached to it by Peppy, and chugged it down.

He had ended up buying five more cases of the alcohol later that day, allowing the liquid to dull his senses til he passed out. The next morning, and entire day, was spent in front of the toilet cursing his luck. When he finally felt well enough to move he would make circles between the kitchen, the family room, through the hallway, look in on the empty study and bedroom his father used and then return to the bathroom to puke more from the exercise. It was that night he had also sifted through the envelopes Peppy had left him to find out he had a total of 583,000 Cornerian credits to his name. And with his own loft and that much money, what was any normal eighteen year old to do?

An hour of online 'research' and a phone call later, a collie with long flowing hair was at his door. The first time she had come she wore a red dress. His heart beat a thousand miles a minute as she sauntered into the living space, taking stock of her new work room.

"You have a nice place here," she had said.

"Yeah," he choked.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah."

She moved back toward his father's old bedroom. "In here?"

"Yeah."

The canine turned and faced him, her eyes skeptical as she approached him. "How old are you?"

"Twenty," he lied.

"Where do you work?"

"I'm in college."

She held him at his waist, "Is this your first time?"

"Yeah-" he gasped, eyes bulging, "I mean, no!"

The canine laughed, lowering to her knees. "That's cute, kid. This will be fun," she giggled, her paws undoing his belt while Fox leaned his head back as soon as feeling set in.

And that was how Fox lived his life since his father had passed. There was nothing in the outside world he wanted or needed, unless it was time for more beer and food. During the day, he would slump in front of his television playing games on his entertainment system. Since money was no longer an issue, he'd easily just order movies on pay-per-view or new games whenever he got bored of his older ones. His nights were spent alone still in front of the television screen or with his new friend when she was available and as long as he tipped well.

If there was anything he did avoid, though, it was the news. He didn't want to see anymore networks broadcasting any of the propaganda video of his father. No matter how much the broadcasters would try and censure the event, it would not matter to Fox. It always returned the image of his father to his mind. And whenever that would happen, he would drown it all out again with as much alcohol as he could.

One morning, there was a knock at his door, the vulpine jumping from the unexpected noise. He had passed out on the couch the previous night and his head hurt from the drunken stupor. The knocking continued while he groaned out a reply and wobbled his way to it.

The door was opened wide enough for him to make out the outline of his classmate. "Slippy?"

"Uh, Fox?" He could feel Slippy examining him in his white boxers and wife beater. "How's it been going?"

"Good, good," he coughed out, widening the door. "Come inside."

The toad looked around nervously, eyeing the littered kitchen and the numerous bottles now decorating the family room. He sniffled twice, adjusting to the pungent mix of alcohol and body odor. "Fox, are you alright?"

"I've never been better," he smiled, taking out a new drink from the fridge. He waved it in front of Slippy for a moment but, seeing the toad refuse, opened it for himself. "What brings you here?"

"It's been a good four months since anyone last heard from you so I thought I'd see what was up." His tone was dripping with concern it made the vulpine sick. "Fox, I don't think this is really good for you."

"What, the drinks?" They met gazes for a moment, his a bit more fierce that it made Slippy uncomfortable. "I'm fine, Slip. Like I said."

"If you say so. The others were just concerned."

"Others?"

"Yeah. Bill, Walt. Even Falco."

"Touching," he muttered, taking a seat on the sectional. "Have a seat."

Slippy complied, sitting on the recliner across from him. He fidgeted a moment, having realized he sat on something and pulled out a pair of lacey, pink panties. He threw them on the floor, blushing.

"So what's up, Slip? How have you been?"

"I've been alright. Ever since the," he paused, choosing his words, "Well, ever since we returned back to Corneria, I've been drowning myself in my studies. I've been attending the Cornerian Fleet Academy for Engineering and have been enjoying myself."

Fox smiled. "That's great. What do you want to do with that?"

"I like ships," he admitted. "Not flying them, mind you. But fixing them. Making sure they work better. I've got half a mind to start making my own upgrades and seeing how they do with the models we're allowed to tinker with."

"Are you looking into weapons development then?"

"Yes. That and defensive tech."

Fox was in awe. His pal was really making something of himself. "How's Falco?"

Slippy scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I don't really talk to him that much. I've only received one message from him asking how you were doing but that was it. Word of mouth is he's working as a crop duster in some rural farm area."

The vulpine burst out in laughter. "He's what? Some farm hand now?"

Slippy shrugged. "He wants to be in the air, is all he's said."

Fox stopped laughing, realizing that the avian was probably fighting his own inner turmoils like he was. Albeit in a more productive matter. "Is he enjoying himself at least?"

"No. He's been moved to several different farms because of his attitude and apparent reckless flying."

"That sounds more like the Falco I know."

"Yeah."

He took a gulp from his bottle, noticing how Slippy squirmed a bit as he did. "And Bill? Walt?"

"They left two months ago to Katina. Bill wanted some more formal flight training and Katina's academy is best known for that. Walt followed, saying something about keeping an eye out for him before he," Slippy coughed and lowered his voice, "gets some girl pregnant."

"Well I guess he gets around," mused Fox.

"So he does," mumbled Slippy, eyeing the panties on the floor again, causing Fox to blush.

Fox was happy for his friends; happy that they were able to move on in some form. But that feeling gave rise to something else inside of him. While he was doing nothing his pals were out still living their lives. It made him even angrier. "Thanks for dropping by, Slip," he quickly said, the toad jumping.

"Oh, alright," he said, following as Fox led him out. "Oh, Fox, one more thing."

"What is it?"

"Headmaster Peppy had asked if you've been monitoring your mail and phone." He saw Fox's eye twitch at Peppy's mention. "There's a debriefing meeting planned and we need to attend."

"When?"

"I don't know. He said Parliament will tell us."

"Fine."

"Fox, take care of yourself?"

"Sure," he said, shutting the door and slumping back on the chair.

Slippy hadn't visited since then and Fox hadn't made any attempt to invite him back. He couldn't put his finger on it but just hearing about the others made him feel anxious. And when he started being able to feel and think again he'd drown it out in booze but wake in the morning with that burning anxiety once more. It was an all-consuming feeling that festered as each additional month flew by. Fox grabbed another bottle and threw it at the wall with its partner from earlier.

He finally got up from his bed, no longer interested in the patterns on the ceiling. He peered out through the blinds, seeing nothing out of the ordinary rush of cars and pedestrians on the streets.

"Quite a mess you've turned this house into."

Fox gasped and spun around to see Peppy standing at his doorway, his arms folded. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I knocked. Twice."

"What do you want?"

"If you'd been paying attention to your phone or your mail you'd know."

Fox scanned his memory. "The debrief."

"I'm glad Slippy informed you about that, what, six months ago?"

"What of it." He folded his arms also to mimic the hare's stance.

"Take a shower, you smell like shit." Peppy stomped over to the bedside, using a gloved hand to pick up a leftover panty while glaring back at Fox.

"She needs to stop doing that," he smirked.

"You need to stop wasting your father's money on cheap whores," he retorted. "For heaven's sake, Fox, what would your father think right now?"

"Well, he's dead, so I guess we'll never know."

Peppy rushed him, grasped his arms and shoved him into the master bathroom. "Shower. Now," he growled, slamming the door.

"You didn't let me get my clothes," Fox complained.

"Deal with it!"

He growled back at the shut door, but turned the shower knob anyway and hopped in, allowing the hot water to trickle down his torso and legs. It was the first time he was also made aware of just how badly he smelled, the combination of old sweat, dirt, and water augmenting the odor. Shaking his head, he cleaned himself up hurriedly and wrapped his waist with a towel.

Peppy wasn't in the bedroom, but Fox did notice how the broken glass had been cleaned up and the rest of the room tidied up. He had laid out a green, sleeveless shirt and some black slacks out on the bed for him, a red handkerchief set to the side. Fox hesitated before changing, grabbing a clean pair of underwear from a drawer first. By the time he emerged from his room the morning sun had already flooded into the family room. Peppy had also cleaned up the area and was presently reading a newspaper on the recliner, a cigar smoking in his mouth. He didn't acknowledge Fox when he approached so he started to walk into the kitchen.

"Don't you grab another beer," the hare growled.

"Hey, you started it."

"Something I see was in lapse of judgement on my part. Get your boots on, we need to go."

"Where are we headed?"

"Parliament building."

"Just us?"

"You know the answer to that."

"So everyone then," Fox said, digging his feet into a pair of grey boots that were in the coat closet. Glancing at Peppy, he noticed that the hare seemed more stiff than usual. "I'm ready."

"Good. Let's go," said Peppy. He folded up the paper and tossed it onto the coffee table.

Fox followed him down the elevator, through the parking garage, and into his black car. Peppy wasn't making any additional effort to talk with him so Fox didn't bother trying. However, it was now obvious the hare was furious. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly it looked like the leather would rip from his gloves. And he was speeding. Much more dangerously than Fox was used to and gawked as Peppy ran a few red lights.

Ahead, the domed Parliament building grew closer; its many columns holding the decorated edifice. Each of the columns was sculpted into the shape of a previous Prime Ministers of Corneria, the current being the form of a buck named Harold Redgis. Fox thought his pillar to be the most absurd with his antlers jutting out, unlike his predecessors. Peppy stopped the vehicle in front of a Labrador dressed up in all black.

"Get out," Peppy barked, opening his own door and leaving the vehicle. He handed his keys to the valet as Fox followed behind him and up the many stairs into the building.

"How long will this take," Fox asked.

"A long time," Peppy mumbled. "The bastards waited this long to meet I'm going to make sure I get answers."

Fox groaned, eyeing Slippy and Falco at the top along with an older blood hound he didn't recognize.

"General Pepper," Peppy greeted when the caught up to them. "I'm glad you can make it."

"Of course, old friend," he smiled. "I wouldn't miss your defense for the world."

"That eases my heart. You know Fox, correct?"

The older man examined him, noticing the faint whiff of alcohol. "Only by name."

"Fox, this is General Pepper. An old friend of your father's."

"Hi," he said begrudgingly while shaking the canine's hand.

"Fox," said Peppy, "let me and the General speak for a moment. Go see to your friends." The hare waved him away as Fox rolled his eyes.

"Hey Fox," said Slippy. "How are you doing?"

He grunted in reply.

"Someone looks like they've been living through hell," said Falco. "You smell like shit."

"Hey, I showered."

"Can barely tell. What have you been drinking?"

"Some cheap shit. What's it to you?"

Falco shrugged. "Thought you'd of like something high class than 'cheap shit'."

"Now, now," interrupted Slippy. "Let's not fight. We're in front of Parliament, after all."

"Yeah, for some circus act," grumbled Falco.

"Just why are we here," added Fox. "Wouldn't that stupid video have been enough? I'm sure they were able to get testimony from the other survivors."

Falco shrugged. "Beats me."

Peppy placed a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Time to go. Follow me."

He glared at the hare but followed his direction, the others trailing behind. They went through the main doors and into the vestibule which was also decorated with many tall columns. The floor was a shiny, pale marble and the air was filled with the hum of political talk from the many lawmakers inside. Peppy and Pepper took them up the first staircase, their footsteps dulled by the red carpet that ran down each step. When they approached the door to the main discussion hall, they were stopped by a soldier in his Cornerian greens and yellows.

"General Peppy, sir, your debrief has been moved to section D4."

"D4," gawked Pepper. "What's the meaning of this?"

"I only have orders, sir. Nothing else."

"What does this mean," Slippy asked.

Peppy turned to the three boys. "D4 is usually used for special guests. Someone has joined us."

"Who else could that be," asked Falco, but Peppy shrugged and took them to the nearest elevator.

His hand dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card key, using it to access the classified areas of the building and pressing the button in red: D4. When the doors opened it looked as if they were in a completely different building. Here the floors were made of a cheap, brown fabric and the walls looked stained; it was much shabbier than the vestibule. There was only one door at the other end of the long hallway and Peppy and Pepper led the boys forward.

Inside, the room was dark, save for a light that shown down onto a wooden table surrounded by chairs. Fox could make the dark outline of people around them, all of them turning and talking in whispers as they entered. He chose to sit at the end of the table beside Falco, eyeing the darkened crowd with curiosity. Suddenly, two more lights clicked on, both above a table to their left and another to the right. Sitting down were a people Fox had not seen anywhere except on video.

"What the!? What are they doing here," Peppy growled out, glaring at the humans to his right clad in a gray uniform.

"SILENCE," commanded a booming voice, all parties obeying as the center podium lit up revealing a stone-faced buck whose antlers shined in the bright light. "Parliamentary debrief: 154 A will begin now. Beginning with the Federation concerns."

To the left were another group of humans. The center figure wore a blue military uniform, his stripes signifying he was of high rank. He was joined by two other men who were wearing a metallic exoskeleton, their right arms equipped with an arm cannon. Fox gawked, having never been around this many humans in person.

"Yes," said the uniformed man as he got up and took his hat off, placing it on the table.

"I am Commander Thomas Hayes of The Galactic Federation. We have heard about the issues that have been plaguing Corneria for some time now but wish to first state that we, again, consider this a matter outside of our jurisdiction." There were a few disapproving whispers in the audience.

"However," he continued, "what is of concern to us are reports of stolen technology, blueprints and even a few of our cruisers around the area you call Sector X. We wish to gain knowledge as to the whereabouts of our comrades out there and if Corneria has any knowledge of the events that had transpired."

"We'd like to second this request," said the man opposite the federation. He stood up, removing his own gray hat onto the table while two soldiers in white followed his lead. What made him stand out was his long, black hair that trailed from his head to his lower back. "I am Prince Alexander of Loki, ambassador to the Inner Midgard Empire." His announcement was met with stifled surprise in the hall. "While we were out in the Haneik Region, we too got reports of tech stolen from us as well as numerous ships."

"You wouldn't have that trouble if you didn't invade our colonies," growled Peppy."

"ORDER," bellowed the buck from his pedestal. "You will hold your comments till you are asked to speak, General."

"Just what do they have to do with us, Prime Minister," returned Peppy.

Fox eyed the buck as he chose his words. "You will see shortly." Peppy, huffed at the reply. "Prince Alexander, what kind of ships do you claim to have been taken?"

"Seven frigates and four battleships," he replied casually. "They are of Aegis, Crusader and Longinus classes in our military."

"How do you just lose eleven ships like that," retorted Hayes.

"There was a coup." This comment was met with whispers. "We know who took our ships and are pretty sure they are the same that took yours as well."

"Who?"

"We call them _The Occult_."

Fox could hear the people around them growl in distaste. Even he bared his fangs at the mention of it, remembering the Jackal, Mahat, from the video. The Prime Minister slammed a hammer onto his gavel and called for order once more.

"The Occult," said the Prince, "are a fanatic group that broke off from their dying race on the planet Aeon. They are in this belief that there are 'keys to the universe' that, once in their possession, can restore their tribe and prevent its extinction."

"Prime Minister, what does this have to do with us," repeated Peppy, his patience growing thin.

"Everything, General," replied the buck. "Hear him out."

"The Occult have had similar skirmishes within our territory," said Hayes flatly. "But last we knew, the Occult were a vassal-class under the Empire."

"This is true," admitted Alexander. "However, we cannot confuse those under Empire protection with the fanatics. It would be an insult to the Aeon people, after all."

"How many have branched off?"

"Three that we're aware of. Mahat, I'm sure you have seen before. And the twins, Isis and Thoth."

"The Clairvoyants," growled Hayes.

"Please explain, who are these Clairvoyants," asked someone from the shadowed audience.

The prince looked up at Redgis, only answering after he nodded in approval. "They are, how do I put it simply, fortune tellers. Using their innate telepathy and augmented technology they are claimed to be able to see future events."

"What good would that do them?"

"It allows them to see a future they desire more and adjust their cause to meet that goal. However, before they separated from the Empire, they were in the process of creating a machine to forcibly alter the timelines to their benefit." There was silence, but with a smug grin, he added, "They wish to call it a FATE: Emulator."

Peppy had, at this point, had enough. "Sir, with all due respect. Just what is going on here?"

"What we're trying to say, good sir, is that we have no involvement in the events that happened on the planet you call Papetoon," answered the Prince. This was met with upset cries within the whole room.

Peppy gave him a hard stare. "You're saying, despite being called out on video, that the Empire had nothing to do with the attacks?"

"Exactly." He waited while the outrage within the room died down a bit, Redgis giving the crowd a glare. "The moment we were made aware of the video, we contacted the Prime Minister to defend our innocence."

There was quiet as the audience looked up to the Prime Minister expectantly. "I received a phone call minutes after the video was aired on television," he admitted. "The purpose of this meeting is to decide whether or not to believe your claims or not." He now looked at the center table, Fox nervous under his glare. "It is for that reason we asked these students here. Students who had more involvement into the events that transpired at the Papetoon Academy."

Falco and Slippy shared confused looks with Fox, while Peppy whispered something to General Pepper, obviously not happy with how things were panning out.

"Falco Lombardi," boomed the Prime Minister's voice, the avian standing up at attention, his eyes wide. "Tell us how exactly did events occur during your flight exhibition?"

He gulped. "Everything went normally, sir. That is until we ran into three enemy jets."

"Was this before or after your attempt to knock out the Arwing I piloted by Fox McCloud?"

Falco shuddered. "After."

"So you admit you purposely tried to sabotage one of your classmates?"

He hesitated. "Yes."

"Do you understand that in the field, your allies are all you have to cover for you when things get rough?"

"I do, sir."

Regis grunted, another voice in the darkened room goading Falco, "Go on."

"Like I said, we were attacked. The first to go was Reynolds. We didn't know what was happening and his jet just blew up from laser fire."

"You may sit," commanded the buck. "Slippy Toad, stand."

"Yes sir," he said nervously, his hands quivering.

"You were the first to notice something was amiss, as reports state. Can you care to explain?"

The toad gave Peppy a nervous look before the hare nodded for him to go. "I, uh. I saw on radar that there was an irregular movement approaching from the upper atmosphere. When I noticed it was approaching the upperclassmen I asked control to look into it."

"And what did they say?"

"Not to worry about it." There were a few quiet gasps from the audience. "But I did anyway. When I saw that they were firing at the upperclassmen I ordered them to evade. Around that time the enemy frigate descended and the school was under attack."

"You were also ordered to retreat, were you not?"

"Yes."

"Did you?"

"No, I-"

"We have reports that you set up a firewall to block out the control room so you'd have sole control of monitoring the situation."

He gulped. "Yes, but I was-"

"Did you not think this would've hampered the defense of the academy?"

Slippy went silent, tears forming in his eyes. "I was only trying to help my friends!"

"Sit down. Fox McCloud!"

Fox stood up, giving Slippy a supportive look before meeting the Prime Minister's gaze. "We have word that you took charge of your other recruits in the air and aided in the defense of the academy."

"Yes, sir."

"Your friend, Bill Grey, spoke highly of you. Said you took up the mantle and rallied your friends to fight back. These are signs of a good leader."

Fox hesitated, aware there must be more.

"You are aware that the academy no longer stands in Papetoon, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"The building blew up about two hours after the shuttles departed. All that's left of the complex is the industrial sector, which survived the explosion."

 _The bomb,_ thought Fox. "We were told there was a bomb."

"By who?"

"A woman. Feline. She said she was in Special Forces."

"Are you aware that our military has no report of anyone in Special Forces having ever been stationed in the academy?"

Fox's eyes widened. "No, I did not."

"But shouldn't you? You did overhear classified chatter between your father and General Peppy, after all?"

"How did you…know that?"

"Your friend, Bill, told us you were aware of the attack and you and your father discussed it as you were docking to evacuate."

Peppy slammed his fist here. "Now wait just a minute!"

"Mr. McCloud, could you tell us, what was it General Peppy said in light of your father asking to raise the alert level of the base?"

Peppy and Fox met each other's gaze. It was then that he knew why Peppy was in such a bad mood. This wasn't a debrief, it was a hearing about Peppy. "Tell him," the hare whispered, defeated.

"He said not to raise the alert." The room was filled with angered shouts. Redgis using his gavel once more to restore order.

"In other words, we can trace the limited defense and academy losses to the judgment of General Peppy Hare," Redgis concluded, still slamming his gavel to quiet the room. "Parliament, have you heard enough?"

Five figures stood up from the crowd, their identities masked in the dark. "Yes," they all acknowledged.

"Then let the decision be heard."

Fox looked around the room dumbfounded as they spoke. "We find the student, Falco Lombardi, unfit to return to any academy due to recklessness and damage of Cornerian property. He is expelled and shall never return."

Falco howled out defiantly, Peppy holding him down.

"We find the student, Slippy Toad," another voice began, "unfit to return to any academy by sabotaging the network in a time of need. He is expelled and shall never return."

The toad bawled, covering his face.

"We find the student, Fox McCloud, though his actions honorable, unfit to currently return to any academy due to recent character misconduct," Fox grimaced as he heard these words. "We recommend a psych evaluation and rehabilitation prior to any attempts to return to duty."

"And Peppy Hare," Redgis said himself. "Unfortunately the populace is in need to blame someone for the events that occurred in Papetoon. Based on current and previous testimony, we have now enough evidence to hereby relieve you of duty as General of Intelligence, effective immediately."

"Now wait just a minute," growled Pepper, but he was quickly silenced.

"General Pepper," said Redgis, "escort the four of them out of here, but return promptly. There is still much to discuss."

The old blood hound glared at the Prime Minister but turned to usher the group out. Peppy was livid, Fox could make out the sound of his teeth grinding. Slippy kept wailing and Falco had his fists balled trying to control his rage. As for him, that anxiety had returned and was gnawing at his insides with more intensity than before.

Behind them the doors shut as they returned into the long corridor, the ruckus from Parliament drowned out in silence. Peppy threw a fist at the wall, adding to the numerous dents that littered it.

"God dammit," he growled. "I knew this was some bull-shit set up."

"Calm down, old friend," consoled Pepper. "We can't do anything about it like this."

"The hell we can! They had this in mind in the beginning. No wonder they wanted the kids to go in."

"About that," trailed Pepper, eyeing Slippy who had knelt beside the wall, still crying. "I feel they were too harsh. I don't understand their judgment in that sense."

"Fox got off easy," huffed Falco.

"I did, didn't I," he growled back. "What the hell is this psych eval supposed to be for?"

"Character misconduct likely involving your whores," shot Slippy. Fox turned away, ears down.

"I need to return," said Pepper hastily. "I'll speak with you later, Peppy." The noise from inside filled the hallway briefly when the General entered through the doors, leaving the four of them alone.

"Well this solved nothing," muttered Fox.

"Your damn right it didn't," agreed Peppy. "Fucking Parliament wanted to blame someone for Papetoon and put my head on the platter. Fuck, I thought this would go better."

"Do you believe the Empire wasn't involved," asked Falco.

"I don't believe anything they've said," growled Fox.

"You and me both, son," said Peppy.

"What do we do now," wailed Slippy. "I wanted to work with ships! I was studying so hard! What the hell do we do now?"

They all hesitated to answer, each unsure of what they wanted to do either.

"What will the military do about Papetoon," asked Fox.

"Nothing," replied Peppy. The three of them looked at him in disbelief. "The school is gone so there is currently no strategic value to retaking the base. So says Parliament."

"What the fuck," shouted Fox, the anxiety inside him snapping. "What's the point in our military if they're so unwilling to help out the people?"

"Politics is a fickle game," muttered Peppy.

"So much weaving between the desires of the government and no action," growled Falco. "You know what, I'm glad they expelled me. I don't want to want to be part of such bullshit."

"You don't need to blame the military like that," countered Peppy.

"But why shouldn't he," agreed Fox. "If all they do is work on the whim and discretion of a Parliament and Prime Minister who'd rather talk politics than work any action then I don't want any part of it."

"And what of expelling us," shrieked Slippy. "We did our best! We were students and we were only doing our best! I thought we were helping!"

Peppy stayed silent, letting the kids rant their frustrations.

"Psych eval, my ass," Fox joined in. "I don't care if you guys think I got it easy, but I want nothing to do with Corneria like this. Even if I joined in, I wouldn't be able to get back at Pigma for what he did to my father." His voice grew low and vicious. "I wouldn't be able to hunt that pig and kill him."

Peppy's ears perked up slightly. "What did you say?"

Fox could feel that anxiety again, but it was unwinding. It was settling inside him, the spread of adrenaline in his body satisfying. That slump he had felt with the death of his father had vanished entirely. And with renewed vigor and conviction, he growled out, "I want to kill that pig. I want to make them pay. I want revenge! And I won't be satisfied until I have killed Andross!"

Peppy saw that Falco and Slippy were nodding in both awe and agreement. "And just how will you do that? You don't have ships, fighters, or the money to do it outside of the military."

"I'll find a way," Fox decided.

"Where did this Fox come from," grinned Falco. "I like him better. Take me with you. I'm tired of these lame farm jobs using an old plane. And there's no way in hell I'd let the military shut me out like this."

Fox grinned back at the avian. "You're an ass, Falco, but you're an amazing pilot," he admitted.

"What about me," demanded Slippy. "Do you guys know how to repair and upgrade any aircraft? Do you know how to monitor status on the battlefield from afar?" He smiled as the other two shook their heads. "Then take me with you too."

Peppy shrugged. "What is this, the forming of some new merc group?"

The idea sat nicely with Fox. "Yes, that sounds about right."

Peppy grinned back. "If you'd let this old timer join in with you, I think I know someone who can help start this shin-dig up. And you don't know just how much I want to sock it to Pigma for what he's done."

The vulpine looked at the others and, realizing having someone with Peppy's experience and connections would be a boon for them, smiled and nodded. "We would be glad to have you."

"Hah," bellowed the older man. "Who'd of thought we'd turn this shit day into something meaningful."

"So who do you know who could help us out money wise?"

He grinned. "I have a few ideas."


	6. Chapter 05 - Pretty in Pink

**[Star Fox: Universe R(aid)]**

 **Bryyo**

 _Star Fox and all characters within the Nintendo universe are copyright their respected owners_

* * *

 **Chapter 05 – Pretty in Pink**

* * *

 _Lylat  
_ _Corneria Territory  
_ _Planet: Corneria  
_ _Corneria City Industrial Sector_

More than likely, today's events would proceed similar to prior meetings. The eager company would sit outside closed doors, sharing excited whispers of their aspirations in becoming their own mercenary gang. Each of them had specific goals, like Slippy in developing state-of-the-art tech and equipment to help out the other two pilots on missions. Falco bragged that his expertise in the air would grant him everlasting fame so they would never be out of a job. Then Fox would simply grumble about killing Pigma and Andross, only to get rebuked by his peers for being a downer and return the comments with a sly smile.

Next, the doors would open and all three boys would stand up expectantly only to see Peppy walking out with a grimace. Their smiles would fade as the older man gave them a cursory shake of his head. They didn't get the start-up funding they needed.

This cycle continued on. The boys sitting outside closed doors. The sharing of excited whispers. Doors opening to an upset Peppy. It took about four times of this before Falco grew too frustrated to deal with the ritual anymore and went back to his job flying crop dusters. Slippy took a similar approach and took his spare time working with his father at a company called Space Dynamics. Fox, on the other hand, was much more persistent and followed Peppy wherever he went.

"I'm glad you haven't given up," he muttered to Peppy as he rode passenger in his car. His head rested on a paw and he stared lazily out the window.

"The others haven't given up, Fox," he replied, noticing the contempt in the vulpine's voice. "Unlike you, they don't have an inheritance to not worry about personal cash."

Fox fidgeted slightly, uncomfortable at the reminder. He took out his cell phone and quickly glanced at the recent messages from the toad and avian who wished them good luck. "I just wish this process didn't take so long. It's been nearly two months since the trial."

"Debrief," corrected the older hare.

"Whatever. It felt more like a trial than anything."

Peppy growled. "I guess you're right."

They continued on in silence, Fox staring at the open factories further off. People in the distance looked like ants from his perspective and gave the air ships being worked on a comical appeal. "So much for having connections, right?" asked Fox after a while, trying his best to keep his tone from being snarky.

Peppy smirked. "You'd think being a decorated war veteran and a once general of intelligence would mean something, right?"

"How badly did the military bar you?"

"My name is now anathema, it seems," he sighed. "Everyone keeps avoiding giving us funding or having anything to do with me to save face."

Fox bit his lower lip. "What makes today any different?"

"Nothing." The older hare furrowed his brow. "Just hoping this old friend would value our friendship over politics." He drove toward the largest of the buildings in the factory yard, a shabby one with glazed windows that made it impossible to see through them. "We're here," said Peppy, parking the car.

Fox got out and held open the doors to the foyer for the older hare before following him inside. Compared to the lavish and decorated buildings they visited, this was in major contrast. Much like its exterior, the interior was older and smelled lightly of mold. In places the tile had yellowed and was chipped and cracked here and there. The foam ceiling boards above them shared a similar appearance. At one spot, an entire board was missing, exposing the pipework that ran across the room. The reception desk looked no better. Its boxy surface ran from one end of the small room to the other. An old, otter woman sat behind it wearing thick, red, glasses.

She looked up at them and smiled. "Mr. Hare! Mr. Randall is expecting you." She extended an arm toward the elevator doors opposite of them. "You can find him on the fifth floor, room 503."

"Thank you," replied Peppy, placing a hand behind Fox to nudge him upward.

They walked out into a sitting area with walls decorated in cheap art and set up with steel, fold-up chairs. A coffee table rested at the center of it all littered with a heap of old magazines. The wall opposite of the chairs held a flat-screen television which flickered every few seconds with white noise. To the left and right were hallways leading to other rooms.

"Ah, Peppy, I figured you'd be a bit early," approached a badger from the left hallway. He had greying fur and wore a moderate brown suit. "I take it this is Fox?" he asked, eyeing the vulpine.

"Greg, it's good to see you," said Peppy, shaking his hand. "Yes, this is Fox."

"My condolences," he told the vulpine. "Will he be joining us in the discussion?"

"No, he will wait out here while we talk."

"Ah, I see, I see. Well, come on into my office," he waved toward a door behind him. To Fox, he said, "We have a vending machine just in the next room should you get hungry."

Fox nodded again and observed the two older men scuttle ahead before taking a seat. He pulled the coffee table closer with his feet and then rested them on top of it before folding his arms and sighed up at the ceiling. _This shit had better work this time_ , he thought to himself.

With no one to chat with this time around he opted to just stare at the broken television

across from him. It continued to flicker too much to see anything meaningful. The

sound worked fine, however, so he decided it best to close his eyes and focus on that instead.

"Reports are coming in from local planetary clusters…"

It was the news.

"…that Venomian forces, along with the Occult ships, have made another push toward MacBeth. Cornerian forces have been doing their best to hold their ground but are beginning to suffer massive losses."

Depressing news…

"With the recent events that occurred in Papetoon and the loss of the renowned James McCloud, morale is getting low within the citizenry. Rumor has it that enemy forces are making an attempt to push further toward Corneria, threatening the planets of Aquas, Fichina and Katina."

The mention of Katina shifted his thoughts to Walt and Bill for a moment, yet he continued listening on, not paying attention to the steady footsteps approaching him.

"As of yet, Parliament has made no comment of the recent encroachment. The Cornerian Military is hesitant on making any rash moves without their consent, but public pressure is mounting for action. In other news, the famous heiress, Kim De'la Poodle, has recently been involved in a robbery…"

"It's amazing how quickly the news jumps from something serious to something rediculous, isn't it?" said a voice.

Fox opened his eyes and jumped at the proximity of a vixen sitting next to him. She wore a relaxed outfit; a pink tank-top covered with a white denim jacket and a pair of green slacks. Her face was a mere few inches from his, a sly smile on her muzzle. "Who are you?" Fox coughed.

"You're Fox McCloud, right?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"That's right." His ears perked up. "How did you know that?"

"You're rather easy to identify," she mused, Fox attentive to her suave speech. "Famous father. Famous _dead_ father." She giggled at Fox's change of expression. "I apologize, too soon to joke?"

"It doesn't make a good joke."

"Perhaps. But there have been rumors of you and the old general seeking funding for some sort of adventure and have kept getting refused."

Fox didn't like this woman at all. "You never answered my question. Who are you? And how do you know we're looking for money?"

The vixen stood up, her short, spikey hair bouncing lightly. "Fara Phoenix," she answered, extending out a paw. "Pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. McCloud."

He squinted his eyes and took her hand. "I'm unsure how to reply. Nice to…meet you too?"

"Very much so," she grinned, and sat back down beside him with her legs crossed. "So not to intrude, though I love doing so, how do you think the ole' General will do today?"

"I'm remaining optimistic."

"Is that so? This badger, Greg. He's a bit of a two-faced jack ass if you were to ask me."

"I didn't," replied Fox dryly.

"Oouuu," she whistled. "I'm really pushing your buttons am I?"

Fox gritted his teeth, growing annoyed at the vixen's attitude. "I don't know what you want but I'm done talking. Go bother someone else."

She chuckled and looked at the television. "It's only getting worse out there; you know?"

He grunted and joined her gaze at the static on the screen. "And I hope you're not being too _optimistic_ , but I can tell you now that Greg is going to say no to the Ole' General."

"And just how can you be so sure?" he huffed.

"Hear me out," she started, losing the smile on her face. "If things keep going the way they are, those planets they mentioned on the news, in particular, MacBeth. They'll be under Venom control sooner than we know it."

Fox turned to look at her, his ears picking up on the shift in her tone. "What makes you say that?"

"Take a look around you. Pay attention to what has been happening to you, your friends, and the general. The military is reeling to do something but, like you, they keep getting stopped by Parliament and politics. Someone or something connected to them is _allowing_ all of this to happen."

"Are you trying to say we are purposefully being refused money? Even with Peppy's connections?"

"If you focus on just yourself, yes," she sighed. "But you also need to look at the big picture. Someone up the chain is pulling strings around. Moving and removing people from play. You, for example. If reports are right, you and your friends did many good things in Papetoon and proved yourselves capable in combat. Yet you were all either put on probation or kicked out of the military. That, there, isn't standard protocol."

The vulpine pondered for a moment. "Falco and Slippy got kicked out for just being students," he muttered. "Peppy was blamed and became an international scapegoat for the incident. All of this is part of some conspiracy?" He rolled his eyes. "Lady, some of this just sounds like bull shit to me."

"You don't have to believe all of it, but you must admit some of it makes sense, no?" She waited for him to reply but didn't get one. "Alright, how about this. I work for someone who is really interested in you and your friends. We are not aligned with the military or parliament at all, so we are free to make our own decisions without worrying about angering anyone for fear of financial loss. If Greg here, as I expect he will, refuses to give you the start-up funding you need, meet us here," she handed him a card from her jacket's pocket.

Fox briefly read the name: Faye Van'Der Spaniel, Arspace Dynamics - Merritt Isle, Corneria. He didn't recognize either name.

"Bring your friends, too," added Fara. Then in a low voice, "but don't bring the old man. Not yet, anyway."

He looked up at her again as she stood up, trying to make her exit. "What time should we meet you?"

"Tomorrow, at noon," she said plainly. "Don't keep us waiting, handsome." With that, she moved toward the elevator and took it down, slowly waving as the doors shut her out.

He didn't have much time to think about the conversation he just had. The door in the hallway burst open violently and slammed into the wall. Fox could make out Peppy's angered yelling.

"Whatever, Greg," shouted the older man, approaching Fox along with the apologetic badger.

"I'm sorry, old friend," he replied, "but there is nothing that I can do. My hands are tied and if I fund your project…well…it may look bad."

"For who? You?" glared Peppy. The badger cowered back slowly.

"Well, do come again," he answered curtly and retreated back into his room. Fox swore he heard the lock turn when the door shut.

"Let's go," muttered Peppy.

"Alright," said Fox, taking another look at the card Fara had given him.

"What's that?"

"Nothing." He shoved the card deep into his pockets. "Just an ad from a magazine I found interesting while waiting." Peppy grumbled and gestured him to the elevator with him so the men could make their exit.

~ ::: ::: ~

As soon as Fox returned home, he phoned Slippy and Falco to tell them about his encounter with Fara. It didn't take long for him to quickly have them on board with the meeting and on the ferry the next day toward Merritt Isle. The three of them stood by the railing at the rear of the ship, closer to the hum of the engines. Falco and Fox leaned on it with their backs away from the water while Slippy stared entranced at the eddies that formed below.

"Fox," Falco began. "Could you explain this chick to us again? Was she hot?"

He chuckled, "Eager to pick out the important details first, right Falco?"

"Of course," he smiled. "So her name is Fara."

"Yes, and she's a fox, also."

"A fox, as in hot?"

"No, as in she's an actual fox." Then he grinned, "or perhaps both." They both shared a quick chuckle with that. "She didn't seem much older than me. Sexy voice, too."

"Mmm," hummed Falco. "She hotter than that chick you were banging? I mean, you were drinking so much alcohol and don't have the gut to show it, all the sex must've kept you in shape."

Fox just smiled back, unamused.

"I'd like to meet her too," added in Slippy, who got surprised stares from the other two. "What? I like girls too, you know."

"Just didn't see you as being interested," chuckled Falco. "I always imagined you being with some robot with how you lust over tech."

"Hey!" protested Slippy, while the others laughed. "But there's that other woman, Faye, right? You didn't meet with her, did you?"

"Nope. It was just Fara," said Fox.

"I looked them up over the net the other night before bed," admitted Slippy.

"Whoa, Slip," started Falco. "That's a bit creepy, don't you think? And before bed too?"

"Har, har," he said half-heartedly. "Anyway, Faye is some sort of super rich heiress. Her father's company, Arspace Dynamics, is a fairly new off-shoot from Space Dynamics."

"Space Dynamics… That's where your father works, right?" asked Fox.

"Yes. But Arspace is a bit of an enigma right now. They're some sort of research division, focusing on spaceships and weaponry." The other two men could see the glimmer of hope within the toad's large eyes. "If this is our chance to create our merc group, then we couldn't have had better luck! I can't wait to see all their tech!"

"Prototype ships, huh," mused Falco. "Hey, Foxy, looks like we'll be back in the skies soon."

"Yeah," muttered Fox. "And out for revenge." The others nodded in silent agreement, turning to face the shapes of the island enlarging from a distance. "We should move to the front. We'll be there soon."

They moved up closer to the docking exit of the ferry. It was littered here and there with other workers who were going about their own day, not paying attention to the younger men. Compared the shabby garb of the people from the factory, their outfits were more modern and up-to-date. A few men and women had attached tech computers to their wrists and they worked busily in their seats.

The remainder of the trip left Fox with some time to think about just how much closer he had grown with Slippy and Falco since their academy days. Falco went from being an obnoxious asshole into an… obnoxious friend. Slippy was still a nerd, but one he knew he could trust.

 _Trust,_ Fox repeated to himself. He knew their time together as pals had only been short thus far, but that was how he felt with these other men. They were all linked together through fate toward the same goal. Though his means to an end were based on the revenge of his father, theirs was a revenge of purpose. The potential lives they had been working toward taken away from not only Venom but the government itself. It certainly made them seem like tragic heroes. That thought made fox chuckle to himself.

Falco noticed the action and gave him a curious look, but nudged him with an elbow and asked, "Is that her, over there?"

Fox looked toward the avian's line of sight, noticing a female lynx wearing a similar pink tank to Fara, but covering it up in a brown, sleeveless jacket while sporting on white shorts. She stood alone at the dock still a distance away. "No, that's not her," he answered. "I said she was a fox."

"Damn, she's hot too," he sighed as Fox shrugged.

"You must have better eyes than me. I just see a cat."

"And I'm happy I do. Day-yum!"

Slowly, the ship approached the port dock and people got up from their seats in preparation for departure. The three of them shuffled out behind a set of engineers, eager to get ashore.

"McCloud!" shouted a deep voice, coming from the lynx woman that Falco eyed before.

"Score!" mouthed out Falco to his friends.

"I'm Fox," he said to the woman. "And you are?"

"Miyu. Miyu Lynx," she replied curtly. "I'm here to pick you kids up."

Falco snorted. "Are you like our chauffer? Shouldn't you be holding a sign up with our names?"

Miyu glared back at Falco. "Do you want to repeat that, chicken wing?"

The avian rushed to her face with flared feathers. "Who are you calling chicken wing, toots?"

It happened too suddenly. In a blur of movement, Falco was turned around, an arm twisted behind his back, forcing him to wince. "Do you want to repeat that, chicken wing?" growled Miyu. She allowed Falco to shake his head before adding, "good," and released him. Fox and Slippy, along with other passersbys, stared in disbelief.

"Alright you brats," snarled Miyu. "I'm supposed to take you to see our lady. Not to partake in your jokes," and directed to Falco, "got it?"

They quickly nodded without a word.

"This way," she commanded, stepping in front of them.

"Falco," whispered Slippy. "Her biceps are bigger than yours…"

"Something wrong, frog legs?" snapped Miyu.

"Nothing," he squealed, keeping his eyes on the ground.

Fox eyed her curiously as they proceeded toward the entrance of the Arspace Dynamics compound, his ears twitching to the heavy thuds of the woman's footsteps. She was someone to be afraid of. He turned to Falco briefly, watching him rub his shoulder with a scowl.

As they neared the entrance the doors hissed open and Miyu paused, the trio doing the same. Out emerged another young woman. Her fur was snow white and she had ears flowing down in beautiful spaniel curls. There was a large, pink bow pinned behind her head, giving her a young and cute look. Her paws rested on her hips, creating light wrinkles on the white, one-piece dress she wore. A blue choker wrapped around her neck and the few gems inlaid on it glimmered in the sunlight. To top it all off was a pink jacket with matching pink boots. The spaniel wore a grin on her face. Beside her Fox recognized Fara.

"My lady," said Miyu. "The brats are here."

"I can see that," she said with a voice that suited the demeanor of a girl raised up in wealth. "Did she hurt you boys too much," she glanced at Falco. He grunted but didn't say anything.

"Wow, we must always be touchy," mused Fara.

"Welcome to Merritt Isle," said the spaniel. "I'm Faye Van'der Spaniel, heiress to the Arspace Dynamics company." She approached each of them and took her time shaking each of their hands. "I see you've already met my body guards, Miyu and Fara."

"Hello, Fox," Fara waved.

"Hi," he greeted flatly. "I hope I'm not being too forward, but shall we get straight to the point? Are you able to help us or not?"

"Watch your tone," threatened Miyu.

"It's quite alright," said Faye. "I'm aware you've all been declined the funding you need to start up…what was it?"

"A merc group," Slippy said meekly. "We want to start up ourselves as a mercenary group outside of military control."

"How interesting," she replied absently. "Let's all meet in my office first. I'd like to hear more about how this idea came to fruition."

Falco growled. "Can't you just tell us if you can help us or not?"

"Why should she," countered Fara. "She wants to make sure our investment is worth the money and time."

"I wouldn't think so," spat Miyu. "The kids are green. Especially chicken wing, here."

Fox glowered at the three women, not wanting to hold his tongue much longer. "Is this a joke, then? Did you ask for us to come this way just so that you could bully us?"

"Not at all," answered Faye staring back coldly.

"Then I'll give it to you right here," started Fox. "We were kicked out of the military for doing our jobs. We were treated like dirt and have since been social outcasts with anyone connected with them."

"So why is it you want to start up your own mercenary group so intently," badgered Miyu.

Fox's expression grew fierce. "I'm not going to sugar coat anything like Peppy does. And I may not speak for everyone here, but for myself, I'm not in this for the fame. I'm not in this for the glory or the money…"

"Maybe a little bit of money," coughed Falco.

"I want this for one thing only and that's revenge," continued Fox. "I want the fuckers that destroyed my home to pay. I want them to suffer ten-fold how I feel about having our whole lives ripped apart. And I want that pig. Pigma, the traitor. I want him dead. I don't want to shoot him, I want to strangle him," he extended out his paws, flexing out his claws. "With my own two hands," he snarled.

"And he won't do it alone," chimed in Slippy. "We've all lost too much to just quit and let things go the way they are."

"There's no way no punk-ass judgment by political say-doers will stop us either," said Falco.

"So," barked Fox, "that's our story. Now, if you will stop wasting our time and tell us straight, we'd appreciate it and be on our way. With or without your help."

The three woman paused, Fara and Miyu sharing glances while Faye stared intently at Fox. She approached him slowly, a grin slowly forming on her muzzle. "Here's the thing, little man," she said softly to his ear, "for me, it is always about the money. I have state-of-the-art ships. I have desires to build a corporate empire that will overtake the military and civilian sector by storm." Fox could swear he saw dollar signs flash in her eyes.

"So you may not be in this for the fame, the glory or the money but I sure am," she added boldly. "Do you think you can make me money, Mr. McCloud? Do you and your friends think you can deliver with your piloting but a lack of experience?"

The men shared a look and nodded in agreement before Fox grunted a, "Hell, yes."

Faye's eyes glimmered. "Let's skip my office, then," she turned around and looked at her body guards. "Let's show them the goods."

"Are you sure," asked Fara quizzically.

"Do you think they're even capable," Miyu asked through squinted eyes.

The canine looked over her shoulder at the trio of men. "We shall see. This way, boys! Follow us."

They nodded, ignoring the slow growth of butterflies in their chests and followed the women through the sliding doors into the research compound.

Sunlight flooded into the foyer through the exterior windows. Plants littered the interior and sat above fancy flower pots of various shades of pink. Black furniture was organized into a neat rectangle creating a simple sitting area where a few researchers sat drinking coffee and conversing with one another on their break. Three elevator doors made of stainless steel met them at the opposite end of the room.

"We're going down into our research dock," explained Faye as she depressed the down button. "I want you to see just what we can be working with."

Fox, Falco, and Slippy followed them inside, noticing the smirks grow on all the women's faces. Slippy fidgeted in his corner, unsure how to react while Falco kept his arms closed, eyes narrowed. Fox scratched the back of his ears, expecting another obstacle.

Faye slid in a key card from her pocket into the elevator console then pressed another button. The descent downward was brief but felt like a lifetime for the men in the silence. They were grateful the space was large to hold about fifty people; they didn't really want to be close to the women, specifically Miyu who kept flashing her teeth if they even tried to look at her.

The doors screeched open to reveal a large walkway. A vast room was revealed, filled with the nostalgic sounds of mechanical equipment and the gentle hum of conversation between workers and researchers. Every so often a female voice would make announcements over an intercom with brief instructions and news of the day's lunch and events.

Faye stepped forward with the others trailing behind her. It was high above the hustle and bustle that happened below and a set of stairs curving downward near them, to the middle of the room and at the far end near an office exposed by multiple glass windows. The walkway split the room into two, symmetrical sides. Sunlight poured in from both the east and west ends of the room through humongous, open blast doors that led to the island's cliffsides. Both sections of the dock had plenty of runway space and more for ship storage.

The spaniel made a turn to the edge of the railing and turned to the men, gesturing below. She tittered as they gaped at what they saw.

"Is that," stammered Slippy.

"Are those Arwings," gasped Fox.

And with less enthusiasm, "They're pink…" said Falco.

"Yes," said Faye. "Those are arwings."

Six of the fighter crafts rested below them. Though they bore similarities to each other, it was obvious that they had different roles. One was sleek and angular, built for speed. Another was boxy and heavily plated, built to take hits. Fox quickly eyed the standard model, similar to his from the academy. The one thing in common they all did have were their grey hues and bold streaks of…

"They're pink!" repeated Falco incredulously.

"Pink happens to be our lady's favorite color," said Miyu.

"You don't say," said Falco sarcastically.

"Does the color bother you enough you can't fly," teased Fara, beginning to chuckle.

"Not at all," said Fox, giving Falco a disapproving stare. "I thought Space Dynamics owned the arwing design?"

"They do, and they don't," shrugged the spaniel. "Arspace is currently just an offshoot of space dynamics until we can go our own way. It's a business thing."

Slippy nodded, carefully examining each ship from their position. "Each of these are equipped and built differently. Look," he pointed to the sleeker ship. "That one is…I'm guessing meant to rush into the front lines, disrupt enemies and then make a quick get-away back to allies, right?"

"That is correct," answered Fara. "It's one of my favorites. It's capable of temporary stealth, too. Makes spying easy."

"Sounds like my kind of ship," grinned Falco. "Minus the pink."

"Yet they're pretty in pink," giggled Faye. "But we have taken liberties to differentiate the arwing model into something more…sufficient to fit into roles," said Faye. "For now, we just call them all the Arwing II."

"Why make them all different," asked Fox.

"Again, business," she answered, looking at the men. "I mentioned I wanted money. What better way to make it than to have my ships – my designs, flying out there displaying their potential. Different models/different styles allow for groups to customize their battalions to meet their needs or liking."

"And so we requested having them used through the military," said Fara. "But just like you, they didn't want to even give us the chance."

"We tried doing it on our own, also," said Miyu. "But with just the two or three of us piloting these ships, it makes it difficult to see all of them working as a team."

"But then I heard through the chain that Peppy Hare was seeking funding to start up his own mercenary group," said Faye. "At first, I didn't think much of it, but I kept hearing it from my father's contacts. Oh, how they ridiculed the poor old man since his removal from office." She paused, eyeing the three men. "But I kept thinking about Peppy and decided to have Fara and Miyu look into it further."

"And that's when we discovered you three," said Fara. "We knew about the results of your debrief, we just didn't know why."

"Three out of five star students from Papetoon suddenly ousted from anything related to the military," said Miyu. "It was curious."

"And since I couldn't pass the chance to meet with you," started Faye.

"More like, her curiosity couldn't be contained," corrected Fara.

"Ahem," coughed Faye. "I decided it would be best to see what was really up with you four."

"Why tell me not to bring Peppy," wondered Fox.

"I have my reasons," smiled Faye.

The vulpine shared eye contact with his companions and grinned. Before he could say what he was thinking sirens began blaring throughout the facility. Workers below them stopped in surprise and they all shared looks of confusion.

"I didn't think they'd be so quick," growled Miyu to Faye, who kept her composure amongst the noise.

"Alert, Alert," cried the female voice on the intercom. "Intruders entering Cornerian Space."

The message repeated over and over.

"That will be Venom forces," Faye said flatly.

"How do you know," wondered Slippy frowning.

"This is your chance now, McCloud," she said, ignoring Slippy. "If you really want our support you three will go out there and prove yourselves. Consider this your first assignment. Take three of my ships. Prove to me that it wasn't dumb luck that got you all out of Papetoon and get me my money I deserve."

They stared at her in disbelief but didn't need to be told twice. "We'll do that and more," boasted Fox.

Faye beamed. "Miyu will take you down to the ships. Don't disappoint me."

"With me," commanded the lynx, directing them down the nearest stairwell in a hurry.

Fara watched them for a moment before turning to her canine friend. "Do you think we can really use them?"

"Yes," she replied. "It was in Fox's eyes. No, all of their eyes. That burning passion and persistence to push through all obstacles to accomplish their goal. Oh, they'll succeed, alright. Even if they have to fight tooth and nail."

"Even if it's for revenge?"

"I don't care about their revenge," huffed Faye. She looked at Fara and laughed out, "But I'm going to be so fucking rich!"


	7. Chapter 06 - Corneria: Part 1

**Star Fox Universe: R[aid]**

 **Bryyo**

 _Star Fox and all characters within the Nintendo universe are copyright their respected owners_

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 **Chapter Six – Battle Scene: Corneria Part 1**

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 **Authors Note:** This story has been revised. If you are already caught up, then I wouldn't worry about rereading as the changes are mostly minor. I'm no longer going to add chapter hints at the end anymore as it's a bit limiting, in my opinion, on what I can write. As for this chapter, I ended up splitting it into two as there was just way too much going on between Peppy, the boys, and behind the scenes that just needed to be put into this story.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Once again, I thrive on your reviews! Please leave them and constructive critiques if you can.

~Bryyo

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Lylat  
Corneria Territory  
Planet: Corneria  
Hare Residence

Smoke danced from the cinders of Peppy's cigar, lingering lazily in the still night air. He took a puff, letting the tobacco flavor fill his mouth before exhaling an acrid cloud. It was night but stars were diluted by street lights below his eighth floor apartment. Ash fell off the tip of his cigar and fell onto the hare's bare chest and lap. He grunted and wiped it off his jeans and fur lazily before taking a swig of the beer he had on the patio table along with disorganized stacks of documents. Peppy replaced the beer in his hand with a red marker and crossed out another name to match the growing list of companies and friends who had refused him and the boys any support for their mercenary group. He threw the marker across the patio, got up from his seat and swiped the table with a snarl. Paper fluttered all over the place, some through the rails and downward to the streets.

"Shit," he grumbled and sat back down.

It was just another thing that could go wrong in his life. Since the debrief, he had scoured his mind and created a list of old friends and contacts who were the most likely to assist him and the boys. There had always been the expectation that a few of them would refuse, but he had never imagined all of them to quickly shut him out. He was thankful for the few that immediately told him no over the phone. It was the meetings that killed him. He knew just how eager the boys were and he hated seeing their disappointed faces. But the icing on the cake was having to spill out his feelings in front of his acquaintances to sell themselves out for money. The meeting with Greg earlier that day was no different.

His ears picked up the sound of his doorbell. He crushed the remains of his cigar and lumbered back into his apartment. The bell rang a second time while the hare hurriedly put on a t-shirt. "Coming, coming," he hollered.

Undoing the lock, he opened the door and frowned at his guest.

"Peppy," said General Pepper. The general was still fully uniformed and holding a bundle of folders under his left arm.

"Pepper," he groaned. "What are you doing here?"

"Seeking counsel," he whispered flatly. "May I come in?"

"Sure, come in," he hesitated.

The bloodhound entered, taking cautious steps before having a seat in the living room couch and spreading the folders out on the coffee table. Peppy offered him a beer from the fridge before sitting on the recliner across from him. "Let me be clear," he began, taking a gulp, "we never talked."

"One of those types of counsels," mused Peppy.

"Yes. One of those."

"I'm not military anymore, Pepper."

"All the more reason. We never talked." He grabbed the top-most folder and nudged it over to the hare. It was about a quarter-inch thick and filled with various documents and photos. "Tell me what you think about this."

Peppy took the packet up with reluctance and grabbed his reading glasses off the end table beside him. A few times he had to stop and reread to make sure he was comprehending correctly. His frown deepened as he sifted through the rest of the texts and gave each photo a quick glance. "When were these taken?"

"About a week ago."

He growled and stared longer at an image in his hand. Captured was a fleet of ships in attack formation, each bearing the Venomian insignia. His eyes could make out the outlines of many fighter ships, scattered around three frigates, a cruiser, and one capital ship which dwarfed them all. It was littered with blaster turrets large enough that they were blatantly visible in the small photograph. Unfortunately, only half of the ship was discernable and made it difficult to judge just how large it truly was when sections of it was hidden behind multiple asteroids.

"This is Meteo," surmised Peppy. "They've made it this close so soon?"

"They have."

He squinted, daring to ask the next question. "What is Parliament doing about it?"

Pepper finally lost his composure and groaned. He pulled off the hat on his head and threw it on top of the stack of folders before taking another drink. "The Secretary of Defense has been trying to establish a defense around Meteo since the Papetoon incident. He thought that when it was decided the Empire had no hand in the attack he'd be able to get the funding and extra forces moved there and into key planets but, again, he got nothing."

"So we're not prepared," Peppy gritted his teeth. Things were starting to feel all too familiar.

"Fortunately, we are," sighed Pepper. "You should've seen Defense Secretary Krause earlier this week. Feathers all ruffled, owl eyes larger than I've ever seen. He let parliament have it. Told them straight: _I've warned you and asked for the forces and now the enemy is on our front door. This is all on you and your bickering and indecision. The lives of the Cornerian people, their blood, are on your hands."  
_

"That wasn't on the news feed," grinned Peppy. "Let me guess, they censored it?"

"Of course. It would've caused mass panic and Parliament is clinging to what little control it has."

"And the Prime Minister? His stance?"

The canine took another drink. "He's been on board with the military, as of late. Though, the gap created when you were ousted hasn't been filled. It's made gathering any meaningful intelligence difficult." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and folded his hands in front of his muzzle. "We need you back, Peppy."

The hare scoffed and folded his arms. "You know that won't happen now."

"Well we need something," he barked. "All this appeasement for entitled citizens has done nothing but hurt our chances of fighting back." His eyes narrowed as he said the next few words in a low voice. "There are rumors of a coup."

Peppy raised a brow.

"The propaganda video that The Occult made is starting to cause concerns. It's being circulated through the net. Heavily edited, of course. But they're keeping the parts about civilian unrest with the government. We've had numerous arrests and attempts at bombings in many of our government buildings."

"I've not heard of any of this," frowned Peppy.

"We've managed to keep it all under wraps the best we can. You can't imagine just how close information leaked a few times." He leaned back on the couch. "But it's been frustrating, diverting all our energies in keeping things quiet for Parliament's sake. What's worse, is all our assailants are from within the military."

Peppy pondered over that for a moment. If people with military training are up in arms already and attempting to terrorize their own homes… "Who is behind all of this?"

"That's why I'm here," said Pepper. He handed the hare a second folder from the stack.

There was information on each of the attacks starting with the earliest, dated a week after the release of the propaganda video. They ranged from minuscule attempts at local banks, post offices and commercial districts to schools, courthouses and even the Parliamentary dome itself. Weapons of choice for each incident was a bomb. Yet, peculiarly, a very common and outdated one. Something that could be diffused easily by anyone with any knowledge of criminal television. "These are all premeditated by someone," concluded Peppy.

"But who, is the question."

"Any leads?"

"No," confessed Pepper. "But I feel in my gut it has to be someone within the military or government itself."

"Another Venom/Empire sympathizer?"

"Exactly."

Peppy wracked his brain for a moment, trying to remember if anyone rang any bells that matched the description. "Other than Andross, no one has been vocal about this. But with everything you've shown me, the Venomian ships approaching…They're going to make their move, and soon."

"Tomorrow."

He nearly choked, eyes bulging out. "Tomorrow?!" His face contorted even more in disbelief as Pepper slowly nodded. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No," he muttered, finishing his beer.

Peppy exhaled sharply. "Just how prepared are we, then?"

"Planetary defense cannons are prepped. The barrier that surrounds Corneria City Proper has been gathering energy the entire week and should be operating at maximum. The only problem with that is…"

"The barrier only protects the government districts," sneered Peppy. "What of the civilian sectors?"

"We have fighters at the ready to defend them. But it's…complicated. We're unsure if this coup will interfere with our defense. So we have men on guard watching not only the skies for enemies, but their own backs. It's exhausting."

"And terrifying."

There was a set of three knocks on the door, the sound silencing both men for a moment.

"She's early," muttered Pepper. "Would you mind getting the door? I've invited someone to meet us here."

Peppy tilted his head, his hare ears twitching slightly. But he couldn't find any harm at following through with the request. Pepper and he have been friends and allies in all manner of issues he knew there couldn't be any reason to be confused. Not at this point anyway. The hare sighed and got up, placing his empty bottle on the end table before making his way to the door.

Outside was a woman. A fox. "Hello, Pep," she said casually, inviting herself inside while the hare stared at her in disbelief.

"Fara? What the hell?"

"It's good to see you again, too," she smiled, taking a seat next to Pepper on the couch. "You'll need to sit; what we have to say is important."

Peppy grumbled but reclaimed his seat without any other complaints. "Go on. Explain."

"Fara has been in my employ for a while now," started Pepper. "She's been one of the best intelligence agents in the field and is the source of all the information I just shared with you. Now, I understand that you two have history-"

"Of course we do," Peppy scoffed. "She's the reason I lost my arwing!"

"If I recall correctly," said Fara, "you and James McCloud had had way too many drinks and were boasting about your fighter skills in front of everyone at the bar. You can't blame me for taking advantage of our bet, can you?"

"Having me play your Lady at poker at that point was probably the worst thing that could've happened."

"And it was your decision to bet your arwing, which the Lady Van'Der Spaniel is ever so grateful for since it was the catalyst for Arspace Dynamics to get its footing in the market."

"Regardless of how you lost your ship," said Pepper, "that is actually of major concern to us now."

Peppy paused, giving the two of them the stare down before shrugging, defeated. "Go on."

"Do you remember during the debrief that both the Galactic Federation and Inner Empire claimed that they had ships stolen from them around Sector X?"

"How can I forget? The humans were one of the most jarring things about that debrief."

"Well it seems we can tie those thefts to both Venom and their Occult allies," said Fara. "One of these folders should have that information inside it. Allow me."

The vixen sifted past the top two folders, digging into another's contents before handing over a file to Peppy. He gave her a sideways glance before snatching it away, quickly going over the text:

 _...Detainee has made numerous claims of working under the influence of a supernatural force. He has referred to it as an Occult type of control where he must obey for fear of bizarre consequences such as, "his timeline being erased or readjusted." Despite the absurdity of his claim, he was hesitant to admit anything about who gave him orders within the military or what his objectives were. It took much coaxing, but we were able to present him with yes or no questions which he answered by blinking once for yes, and twice in quick succession for no._

 _We were able to infer that who he is working for is looking for blueprints and crafts from our armies but we couldn't ascertain the reasons with this method of questioning. What was most peculiar was that during the time of this questioning a tribute was playing for Commander James McCloud on the television and he deliberately pointed at the Arwing I that he piloted…_

Peppy rubbed his eyes. "When was this interrogation?"

"Just a few days ago," answered Pepper.

"And what of the Arwing I?"

"There is only one of that model that remain to our knowledge: yours. The McCloud jets were destroyed when the Papetoon academy was blown up. We can only speculate that the enemy no longer has Pigma's if they are so eager to take it."

"But wait," stopped Peppy. "You both know that I no longer have the jet. In fact, Fara would have more information on its whereabouts than me."

Fara shrugged, crossing her legs casually and leaned back on the couch. "This is the part where I admit to you that the ship was a bargaining chip for our own company to get started up with Space Dynamic's support. We took the original blueprint but they got to keep the ship for their own research and testing."

"Isn't it their ship to begin with?"

"Legally, not anymore. It belongs to Arspace now."

"And what do you want with it now?"

"Nothing. We want it gone."

The hare sighed. He was very well aware that by "gone" she meant destroyed. It made sense, seeing how the ship was many times advanced compared to the generic fighter that the military used. Should anyone else get hold of it and begin to mass produce it the tides of battle would turn in their favor. And yet, they were telling him about it and he was no longer military. He no longer had any authority or leeway with anyone. Unless…

"You're going to fund us, aren't you?" concluded Peppy. Pepper nodded with closed eyes and Fara's grin just got larger.

"By this point, all your boys probably already know," she said. "While you were speaking with Greg I managed to intrigue McCloud's kid into meeting with the young Lady tomorrow at noon."

Peppy frowned. It didn't sit well that Fox had made this decision without consulting him first. "Just what do you want those kids to do?"

"To show us what they _can_ do. Lady Van'Der Spaniel wants to make sure if she funds this project of yours that she can get her money's worth. Make sure it's a suitable investment."

"They're just kids!"

"Who want to be mercs," Pepper said firmly. "If this is truly the path they want to go then so be it. You're not going to find a better offer, Peppy. History with the Van'Der Spaniels or not. Take their offer. It's the best way you can help all of us."

He flew his hands up in the air, knowing his friend was right. "Fine. But I don't like it."

"That's the spirit," mused Fara. "But there is still the matter of the missing Arwing I."

"What do we need to do?"

"More like, what do _you_ need to do," said Pepper, handing the final folder to Peppy.

Inside was a cardkey, a usb stick, as well as a mission debrief. He was required to infiltrate Space Dynamic's lab Sigma in the outskirts of Corneria City, make sure all data on the Arwing I was removed from their servers through use of the USB card, and then destroy the ship.

"You want me to do it alone?"

"Is that a problem?" asked Pepper. "You were one of our best intelligence agents on the field and with McCloud's crew before your promotion. We want you to do it again."

The hare would've complained more; he wasn't in the same shape as he was back then. Unfortunately, being a General behind a desk as well as the appointed headmaster to one of the military academy's didn't do well for his physique. All his old moves would come out more clumsy than when he was younger. Yet, there really wasn't any other option for him. The kids will be up in the air proving their worth, he couldn't expect to just sit on the sidelines.

"I'll do it," he said, getting up and giving a rigid salute out of habit.

"Then this will be considered your prerequisite mission," said Fara. "You'll need to leave immediately since enemy forces are expected to arrive by noon tomorrow. Get in there and get out. Meet us here…" She handed him a card much like the one she gave Fox. "Merritt Isle Research Facility. Should the boys prove useful and your mission a success, we'll agree to financial terms and General Pepper here will brief us on your next steps."

"Then I better be going."

"As should we," agreed Pepper, reclaiming the folders and hat as he and Fara got up. "I wish you well on your mission, Peppy."

"As always."

Fara said, "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

They left his apartment, giving him time to reread his objectives and commit as much of the floorplan to memory as he could. This would be the first time in years he'd be doing ground level work and despite being annoyed he could feel the adrenaline rush inside of him. He made for his office, undid the lock on the cabinet above his desk and pulled out the box which held his old blaster. Even on Corneria, with the chance the rebels would try and stop him, he'd feel much better with the old baby in his hands.

His old combat uniform hung in the dresser on the opposite end of the room. His belly was much larger now, but he managed to fit into the outfit with just a minor struggle. He made sure the key card and usb were pocketed safely in his shirt before leaving his place and out into the night.

~ ::: ~ ::: ~

It was still dark, but dusk hinted in the sky by the time Peppy arrived, his destination nestled behind dense trees atop a cliff side that peaked out over the ocean. The research facility proper stood a mere two stories above the earth though what was underneath wasn't discernable from the hare's current vantage point behind the thick underbrush. Through his night-vision binoculars he could make out the buildings modern look, the multitude of darkened glass windows stretching out from one end of the building to the other showing little to no movement within. He was able to take note of several surveillance cameras slowly rotating in the more well-lit areas of the exterior.

He pulled his blaster from its holster, set it to silenced and took careful aim at the nearest camera; the device sputtering smoke and sparks as it died down. Then, he bolted to the nearest wall and pressed against it before taking aim at the next camera over the rear entrance. It fizzled much like the previous one and Peppy made his way to the metal door, taking the card key from his front pocket before swiping it through the reader.

The interior hallways were dimly lit; the hare closing the door slowly and with minimal noise. He stood still a moment to see if his ears could pick up any sounds while scanning his surroundings. Beside him a door was ajar with a white lab coat hanging from a hook. His eyes focused on the motion sensor that hung on the foam boards above him and quickly put the coat on; he didn't hear any alarms going off but he knew to move quickly just to be on the safe side.

He holstered his blaster, carefully concealing it behind the long coat and nonchalantly made for the elevator shaft. The access panel required the card again, the hare staring at the numbered buttons for a moment to recall which floor he needed to get to.

"Hold the door, please!" called out a woman. Peppy cursed to himself as the canine bounded from the opposite hall and into the elevator. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he muttered.

"I'm on the coding floor," she said casually while catching her breath. She eyed Peppy suspiciously when the hare reached out to the buttons and froze.

 _Damn memory! I don't know this shit_ , he cursed to himself. Naturally, he pulled his hand back up to his eyes and rubbed them with a large yawn. "I'm sorry. I just got back from a coffee run. My eyes keep getting out of focus."

"Oh, that's alright," she replied, hitting the button herself. "Where are you going?"

"Server room."

"Ok, I've gotcha."

The ride was a short one but to Peppy it lasted an eternity. He yawned every so often to keep up the charade, though at times he felt to himself it wasn't. As for his guest, she didn't seem to mind him at all, using the elevator time to look at her reflection on a compact to gussy up. When the doors did open she walked out without a word and he finally allowed himself to relax.

 _A bit too close for comfort_ , he thought to himself.

He peered through the elevator doors the next time they opened, looking left and right of a dimly lit hall before stepping out. It was a small space with two glass doors at each end while the wall opposite the elevator had a wide window, revealing the server room. There was no light, save the gentle blues and greens from the terminals that created a maze in the room. He had to use the key card once more to enter, noticing that his footsteps made echoes no matter how quietly he tried to walk.

His eyes squinted, trying to make out the numbers of each rack that held the servers. The hare ended up making a few turns inside before finding the rack that matched the number on his debrief: 509. His fingers fumbled with each server, struggling to find a USB port and he cursed under his breath when he put it in upside down the first time. He waited a moment for the light on the USB to turn from red to green before yanking it out and back into his pocket.

But by that time, his ears picked up the sound of the door opening and footsteps in the room. He stood still, using what little light he had to judge his distance to the exit. His mind swept through a series of pictures of the floor plan, trying to find alternate exits until he remembered there should be a stairwell in this room leading to the hangar bay.

"How long 'til arrival," he picked up a voice saying.

Another said, "Not long now. I think our ground troops will make a move first."

"Really? That's not fair. I wanted to be part of the assault."

"Our job's just as important. We need to find that ship and take it before anyone notices."

"The arwing?"

"You don't pay attention much during debriefs, do you?"

"Whatever man. I just want some action!"

The two of them came into view of Peppy, two canines, walking past the aisle of servers he stood still at. He took a deep breath and started to walk, matching the footsteps of the other men as best as he could.

"Where's that damn terminal?"

"Use your damn flashlight. Why are you letting me wander in the dark?"

And then lights blared onto Peppy.

"Who the fuck?!"

The hare reacted quickly, kicking the flashlight out of the canid's hands before pulling out his blaster. His other opponent was too slow; he struggled to undo the strap on his holster - a rookie mistake. Peppy shot him point blank in the chest, the dog howling as he fell backward. The other man took a swing at him, but the dark was on Peppy's side; the hare ducked out of the way and used his strong legs to jump forward and head-butt the man and knock him onto the floor. Just for safe measure, he fired two shots at his chest; he couldn't take any more chances.

Before he made for the exit, his ears picked up the faint sounds of radio static. He knelt down over one of the dead bodies and pulled out an earpiece.

"...Top floors are under control. Hostages are all gathered and accounted for."

"Roger. Hangar team is en-route to the docking bay. Waiting on server team to finish with the hack."

"Server team: do you copy?"

 _Shit, shit...shit shit shit_ , thought Peppy. He knew it was a bad idea but he spoke anyway. "This is server team. Hack is underway."

"Understood. Estimated time for mission completion is ten minutes. Everyone gather at the hangar. Once we have the ship Operation: Deer in Headlights will commence."

Peppy dropped the earpiece and scrambled around the terminals, finding the double doors that led to the stairwell. Opening it, he ran into another canine, dressed up in green military garb and holding a blaster rifle. The hare didn't give him time to react; he shoved him over the railing as the man screamed downward, hitting each subsequent rail on the way down before landing on the ground five floors below with a horrifying crack.

"WHO'S THERE? SHOW YOURSELF!"

There were two other men below him who had stopped when they heard their comrade's screams. Peppy used his strong legs again to jump up and land a kick in the face to the nearest soldier, the force knocking him back onto his partner. He fired out two more shots, the blaster hissing upon contact with both men.

Then all hell broke loose. Above him laser fire rained from multiple blaster rifles, Peppy bouncing from wall to wall as he descended down the stairs. At the final floor he nearly tripped over the soldier he had tossed and slammed into the doors. They were locked.

"You have gotta be shitting me!" he shouted, giving the door several strong kicks before they finally gave way. He would've said a silent prayer in thanks that the doors were wooden, but he was immediately beset by more laser fire.

He wall jumped off of the two large storage crates that cornered him by the doors and scampered up on top. Blaster fire hissed at him and burned onto each container as he jumped from one to another, firing from his own pistol. He counted a good five of them on the ground, the higher vantage giving him a good view of them. Ahead he could make out the pieces of the arwing jutting above the containers as well as a large ship hovering at the mouth of the blast doors. Through them more men spilled in, each just as well equipped as the last.

There was no way he could blow up the ship now and get out in once piece. He counted the soldiers again, totaling up to around twenty. His eyes jumped from one enemy to the next, cowering down on the containers as more gunfire came his way. He spotted a few in the distance clambering up a ladder but he dispatched them easily from his position: nineteen… no, eighteen left now.

"Hold your fire! Hold your fire!"

The barrage stopped and Peppy managed to peek over his hiding spot and saw a large figure, his head concealed within a mask and a heavily armored space suit. For a moment they made eye contact before the man chortled. Peppy knew that laugh - It had been haunting him the moment he heard it on the propaganda video.

"Peppy! Long time no see!" He took off his helmet and took a deep breath before exhaling.

"Pigma," he uttered in disgust.

"I didn't think you had all this shit still in ya," he smiled. "I have gotta admit, you're putting up more fight than Jamie did! I'm impressed!"

Peppy seethed, taking out another soldier next to Pigma. Seventeen.

"Oh, that wasn't so nice. Not nice at all!"

"What do you want, Pigma," shouted Peppy, eyes darting from soldier to soldier and from crate to crate, judging the best route to get out of this mess.

"You know what I want. But judging from your appearance here, I know what you want too."

"The arwing."

"That's right. Couldn't help that selling my story and death to Jamie meant the loss of my own ship, but all's well that ends well, right?"

 _So Fara and Pepper were right_ , he thought. Not like it mattered much now. His only exit was out through the blast doors. And the only way he could do that is if he killed everyone here on the spot, but he knew that that wasn't possible. Which left one last option.

The arwing.

He judged the distance, a several meters ahead with a clean strip in front of it for taking off. There were a few men in the way, but he could duck behind more containers and out of reach long enough to jump into the cockpit and start the engines - should it still be fueled and ready. He prayed it was, otherwise he'd be a sitting duck.

"Well Peppy, this has been fun and all, but times-a-wastin'! Got things to do, deer to meet with. Venison to make, ya'know." He waved an arm around, the men pulling closer to him.

The hare smiled, realizing this worked even better in his favor, the soldiers trying to corner him into his one container while a few tried to sneak up behind him. But it was now or never. He bolted toward the arwing, guns blazing. They returned fire at him, narrowly missing him a few times as he hopped from one container to the next. He could hear Pigma shouting threats but he was able to make one final jump onto the landing zone and scrambled up the old arwing, slamming a fist onto the cockpit door button. It slowly raised and he turned to fire more shots as the soldiers started to spill out from behind the containers.

He slid into his seat and fiddled with a few buttons on the control console and heaved a sigh of relief when the engines started to rumble. He could hear the hissing of blaster fire hitting the fuselage, Peppy gritting his teeth as the shields slowly rose up.

Everything was drowned out by the roar of the engines now. He eyed the carrier in front of him and gripped tightly on his control stick.

"FUCK YEAH!" he bellowed while firing a volley at the ship in both fear and relief.

The ship crumbled away from the bombardment, careening off his path and exploding over the ledge, all the while allowing Peppy to pull on his throttle and out into the air.


End file.
